


show me

by societysgot



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Pre-Canon, Theatre Rehearsals, set only in West Ham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/societysgot/pseuds/societysgot
Summary: harry and cassandra find themselves in an unfortunate predicament when they are cast as the two leads in their school play.





	1. one

The sky above West Ham was a pale dusty blue that afternoon, with not a single cloud in sight. There was however a slight chill in the air. Cassandra Pressman shuddered as the cold wind whipped her fringe out her eyes. She had been inside for the remainder of the day and had forgotten just how cold it was. She exited the main building of West Ham High School and quickly turned into the courtyard, blowing into her hands to keep herself warm. The tall blonde seamlessly weaved her way throughout the stampedes of students, smiling at a few as she passed before she reached her final destination: the auditorium.

They had been told earlier that day that the cast list for 'Twelfth Night', would be posted that afternoon. She wasn't expecting to receive a role, but a small part of her was hopeful. After all, she had always had a flair for the dramatics, or so her parents insisted and she herself could admit that she loved the way performing made her feel: strong - something that she wished she could be all the time.

There were nearly a dozen students already there when she walked in, standing in small clumps near the stage, chattering amongst themselves. As she looked around for her sister who clearly hadn't arrived yet, her eyes landed on one person in particular, standing near the steps leading up to the stage. But no. It couldn't be. Was that really Harry Bingham? What in god's name was he doing here?

As she walked through the groups of boys and girls she made sure to throw a glance his way. His eyes locked with hers for a split second and he gave her a lovely fake smile, one which she returned almost immediately. He hadn't always greeted her in that way, but in truth cassandra couldn't remember the last time he'd greeted her any differently. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time they had a civil conversation that lasted longer than a minute. It was obvious. Harry did not like Cassandra. And Cassandra did not like Harry. And they made that abundantly clear.

"Ah, if it isn't Queen Cassandra, to what do I owe this pleasure?" He announced, bowing dramatically.

She stopped in front of him, her hands on her hips and eyebrows raised.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" She sighed, ignoring his stupid attempts to provoke her. He really did know how to get under her skin.

"I'm here for the play, obviously." He stated, shrugging his shoulders, his brows furrowed.

Cassandra nearly choked, stifling laughter. Harry frowned at that, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"What's so funny, Pressman?" He questioned, loudly.

"I'm sorry, I just - you actually auditioned?" He must be joking.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" He asked, his eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

"Nothing. It's just, I didn't think this was really your scene, you know, the 'theatre'." She said, emphasising the word for dramatic effect.

"Well, extracurriculars look great on college applications, so here I am.", he stated, matter a factly, "And besides, maybe you shouldn't pigeonhole people into stereotypes when you clearly don't know them at all."

"Oh come off it. I didn't pigeonhole you" Cassandra rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair.

"You literally just pigeonholed me."

"For god's sake, Harry."

"What? It's true. Why won't you ever admit that you're wrong?"

"You're being ridiculous. Why do you always have to do this?"

"Do what?"

"This!" Cassandra gestured frantically between them, "You always have to rub me the wrong way."

"Rub you? I don't like the sound of that." For fuck's sake. The guys around Harry had suddenly started to take an interest in their conversation too. Fantastic.

"You're disgusting, Harry, you know that's not what I meant."

"You're right. Sorry. And you know, even if you did mean that, you have nothing to worry about. I would not touch you with a ten foot pole, if it's any consolation." He responded, causing Clarke to burst out laughing.

Cassandra felt her cheeks start to heat up, as she struggled to think of a good come back while some of the other boys doubled over laughing, but thankfully she was saved by the bell. Mrs Marsha, their drama teacher, had just entered the room. Instead, she sent Harry a furious look before turning her attention to the front of the room. As Mrs Marsha made her way briskly over to the centre of the stage, Cassandra fiddled with her skirt, trying to iron out the wrinkles with her fingers, purposely avoiding the eyeline of a certain dark haired boy. 

"Hello everyone," Mrs Marsha said, quickly putting on her glasses and shuffling the papers in her arms, "Congratulations to everyone who auditioned - you truly are a talented cohort."

"I have the cast list here, which I'm going to pin to the wall over there so you can all take a look. Rehearsals begin next Tuesday evening for the leads, and the week after for the supporting roles. Thanks for your time, everybody, and I'll see you all next week!" She concluded, smiling brightly at all of them.

As soon as the their teacher exited the stage, the students began to huddle around the cast list, pointing and highfiving, some walking away disappointed, others elated. As the crowd began to thin, Cassandra felt a tap on the shoulder. She groaned. Readying herself to quite literally punch Harry in the face, she turned around glaring but to her relief, she instead saw a smaller blonde figure, smiling at her.

"Cassandra, you got it!" Allie, her younger sister exclaimed excitedly, "You got Viola!"

"Really?" Cassandra said, sounding shocked, as Allie pulled her into a tight hug.

"Come off it, you knew you'd get it!" Cassandra shook her head before smiling at her sister and ruffling her hair.

"You're still going to be stage manager though, right? I want you there with me, Allie." She said, to which Allie nodded vehemently, still grinning widely. 

"Wait, so if I'm playing Viola then what about the rest of the cast? Who's playing Duke Orsino?" Cassandra asked, excitedly.

Allie's face fell slightly.

"Oh. That you're not going to like as much." Her smile faltering, "But I mean, it'll be okay he's not that ba-"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

No. No no no no no. Cassandra thought. That voice. She'd recognise it anywhere. Anybody, anybody but him.


	2. two

As soon as her calculus class ended, Cassandra gathered up her books and made her way to the auditorium. The cold winds from the day before were yet to subside so she hugged her things close to her chest as she walked so as to retain some of the heat. Today was the first official rehearsal of 'Twelfth Night' and Cassandra had been dreading it since the cast list was released. Normally, she would be ecstatic to start rehearsing, especially considering her love for Shakespeare, but the thought of spending the next few months rehearsing alongside her arch nemesis made her feel sick to her stomach. She had no idea how it was going to go. Was their constant bickering and fighting going to hit a breaking point? Would it kill them both? The thought of it was already giving her a headache.

Upon entering the room, she immediately saw Will sitting in the corner with Allie, who waved her over excitedly, her stage manager notes in her hands. The teachers had said something about this year's play being a much more student led production, with the teachers only setting a schedule for the students to follow and involving themselves in the final run throughs and dress rehearsals. Cassandra couldn't decide whether or not it was a good idea. Less supervision meant less work getting done, and given her scene partner...

"We were just talking about the staging and the props with Miss Marsha - Cass, it's going to look amazing!" Her sister exclaimed.

"Can't wait to see it," Cassandra smiled before looking over at Will who seemed slightly disinterested by the conversation.

"Did Miss Marsha say anything about what to focus on for this rehearsal?" She asked, slinging her bag off her shoulder and sitting down next to Allie.

"She told us to divide up into scene groups and start discussing and workshopping ideas for Act 1." Will replied, "But we have to be up on the floor rehearsing before we leave today."

Cassandra nodded, looking around the room fervently. Still no sign of Harry.

"Have any of you seen my scene partner?" She asked, tiredly.

This was going to take a lot more work than she had originally anticipated if he wasn't even going to bother showing up to their scheduled rehearsals.

"Nope, not yet," Will responded, "But I can read with you until Kelly gets here though."

Cassandra nodded and they began to start marking up their scripts, discussing objectives and obstacles. Allie sat close by reading her own copy of the play, whilst jotting down notes about lighting and sound. Nearly 20 minutes later, Allie nudged Cassandra in the arm and nodded to her, gesturing to someone over her shoulder.

Sure enough, there was her long time rival, entering the auditorium with his arm slung around the shoulders of his on again off again girlfriend, Kelly. Cassandra turned back around to face her sister, rolling her eyes. She didn't even know they were back together, but it didn't surprise her. Those two always went back to each other. She didn't really know what to think of Kelly. They didn't really speak much but the fact that she voluntarily chose to spend her time with Harry lowered Cassandra's opinion of her.

The audacity of him, she thought. To show up 20 minutes late with no warning or apology and then to walk in like he owned the place. 

"You're late," Cassandra called to him, as they made their way past.

"Oh no, Madame President, my apologies. You gonna give me a detention?" He joked, sarcastically, his little posse of friends sniggering.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and turned back to Will and Allie, looking agitated. She hated how he pulled this shit all the time and not one person called him out on it. One thing she knew for sure though, that wasn't going to cut in showbiz.

As the rest of their group had settled on the other side of the stage, Will and Cassandra stood up leaving Allie to her note taking, and moved over to join them, Cassandra dragging her feet. She could sense already that this rehearsal was not going to go well. As they made their way over, she could hear Harry and Kelly, deep in conversation.

"So, your character Orsino, is in love with Olivia but then he falls in love with Cesario who—"

"Wait, go back. Who the fuck's Cesario? I thought he fell in love with Viola?" Harry questioned, cutting Kelly off.

"Cesario is Viola. Harry, have you read this play?" She asked raising her eyebrows at him, as Will and Cassandra approached them.

"He should have read it, considering we studied it in Year 10 English." Cassandra said, smiling sweetly at him, before opening her script and flipping through it.

Harry rolled his eyes at her, while Kelly and Will picked up their scripts and moved to the other side of the stage to practise.

"Don't start with me, Cassandra," Harry muttered, already looking irritated.

"You're the one who was 20 minutes late," She said pointedly, beginning to diligently highlight her lines.

"Oh bite me, Cassandra." 

Harry yawned loudly and slid down in his chair for more comfort, his script lay abandoned on the seat next to him. He had angled himself in his chair in such a way that he practically had his back to her. Cassandra glanced over at him, wandering how long he was going to keep this up. 

"So, have you read it?" She finally asked him.

"Read what?"

"The play, for fuck's sake, Harry."

"I think we both know the answer to that." Harry said, rubbing his eyes.

Cassandra shook her head smiling, almost amused at his behaviour.

"How do you expect to act in a play if you haven't, you know, read it?"

"I said I haven't read it, I didn't say that wouldn't. There's a difference."

"And when will you read it then? Because there actually is a deadline: the performance," She stated, "And if we're going to be scene partners, I'd appreciate it if you put some effort in."

Harry just rolled his eyes in response, shaking his head. Cassandra rolled up her sleeves and took a step closer to him.

"Look, I'm just saying, if you actually read the play before coming to rehearsal and did the preparation, you'd actually know what was going on." Cassandra said, her voice rising unintentionally.

"Oh, yeah? Well if you'd stop being a grade A pain in my ass every day of the week, then maybe I'd have time to read the goddamn play!" He snapped back, angrily.

Cassandra, bit her tongue to stop herself from speaking. Deciding not to add fuel to the fire and ignoring his comment, she turned her back on him and began reciting her lines out loud. After all this was rehearsal time, and if he wasn't going to do his bit, she might as well make use of the time and space. She had nearly made it through a two page scene between their characters, pausing awkwardly between each of her lines due to Harry's lack of participation, before she noticed him staring. She could feel his eyes on her as she read, burning through the back of her skull and before long she began to hear him laughing.

She halted on the spot, exhaling loudly, as he continued to laughed.

"What?" She demanded, refusing to turn around.

"Nothing, nothing. Just looks funny when you do it by yourself," Harry laughed, putting his hands up in surrender, "Tell me what page you're on and I'll read with you."

"No." Cassandra responded, stubbornly, still with her back to him.

"Come on. Tell me."

"No, I won't."

"For god's sake Cassandra. Just tell me the page number."

"No, I will not-"

But when she turned around he was right behind her and her heart nearly exploded at the sheer closeness of their bodies. His face just inches away from hers, smirking. God, he was unbearable. But she could smell his expensive cologne from where she was standing and it was so intoxicating she thought it might just engulf her whole. She hated the way her body reacted to his close proximity, like it had a mind of its own. She hated him. Hated him. And she knew that. But for some reason, her body betrayed her mind and she just stood there, frozen on the spot. He took that opportunity to tug the script book out of her hands, a smug smile still plastered on his face. But his eyes didn't break away from hers. Not once.

"Hey guys - Cassandra?"

It took Cassandra a moment to register that someone was speaking to them. It wasn't until Harry's gaze suddenly moved to the person standing behind them that she realised what was happening and stepped backward, almost awkwardly.

The voice belonged to Grizz, who was looking at the two of them with a strange expression etched upon his face.

"Uh...Kelly wants to read with you before you finish up today...if you guys aren't...too busy," Grizz said, his eyes flitting between the two of them, looking confused.

"That sounds great, Grizz," Cassandra said quickly, "I'll be over in a minute.".

"Oh, thank god - does that mean I can leave?" Harry moved closer to the two of them, looking hopeful.

"Yeah, I guess so," Grizz muttered, before moving back over to where Kelly and Will were running lines.

"Sweet" And with that, Harry immediately began shoving his things into his bag. 

"Don't forget the next rehearsal - 4.30pm. This Thursday." Cassandra said, leaning against the chair next to him.

"Yeah, I'll be there," Harry said, sending a mocking smile her way to which she responded by rolling her eyes.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder he stopped right in front of her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her ear.

"- if I remember, that is." He added with a smirk before walking out through the wings, leaving Cassandra standing alone at the edge of the stage. 

"Asshole." She muttered quietly, under her breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!!   
> hope you enjoyed this chapter, i know these chapters are pretty uneventful but i will update v soon. any comments/opinions or kudos would be greatly appreciated <33


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this chapter!! any comments or kudos would be greatly appreciated. thanks my fellow hassandra intellectuals <3

By the third week of rehearsals, they had gotten into a sort of routine. Harry and Cassandra would spend the first half hour arguing about anything and everything and then if they were lucky, they might get in a solid hour of productive rehearsal. If they were lucky. But Harry had a knack for showing up late and Cassandra had a knack for chastising him about it at every rehearsal. And their constant bickering wasn't exactly making life easy for the rest of the cast, as Will and Allie so often reminded Cassandra.

"It's not my fault he likes to contradict everything I say," Cassandra muttered.

"You could just ignore him, Cass," Will suggested, as they walked down the hall to their lockers.

Classes had just ended for the day and the hallways were quickly filling up with students.

"What, and let him win? No way," Cassandra replied, half smiling and Allie laughed.

As they gathered their things together and began the short trip to the auditorium for their second rehearsal of the week, Cassandra felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Helena, smiling at her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, realising Cassandra was walking in the opposite direction, "The meeting starts now."

Cassandra stared at her blankly for a second before a wave of realisation hit her. The Student Council Meeting. Shit. It had completely slipped her mind.

"Right, the meeting," She responded, sighing, "I completely forgot."

"Starts in 5. Should be done by 6pm. Weren't you the one who called the meeting?" Helena said, raising her eyebrows, still smiling.

Cassandra mentally face palmed herself. She was going to miss the entire rehearsal for this meeting. She could already see the look on Harry's face when she told him and she was dreading it. She knew how he felt about anything to do with her student body presidency. When they both ran in the student election, he was the favourite to win, but somehow Cassandra managed to pull through with the higher number of votes. It must've been because she had actually put the effort in and made a good campaign. Or something like that. But he had never been able to get over his defeat and thus had reminded her of it almost every day since. Addressing her as Queen Cassandra, Your highness, Madame President - the list went on and on.

She caught up with him in the doorway to the auditorium. A mocking smile formed on his face at her news. 

"Wow," He said in response, shaking his head, "So, the Student Body President has more important things to do."

"It's not like that and you know it," Cassandra said lamely, "But I do have to be there."

"No, no of course. The Student Body President can't miss a meeting. God forbid," He said sarcastically.

"My god harry, are you ever gonna get over that?"

"Get over what?"

"You know what," Cassandra rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"It won't be easy for me to work without a scene partner. Maybe you should've organised yourself better," Harry said, gruffly, evidently trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"I'm sorry, okay? The meeting will be finished by 6pm though, if you want to stay back for a bit and go over some stuff," Cassandra sighed, surprising herself with her words and cocking her head to the side.

Harry just laughed in response before turning away from her and walking into the auditorium behind Grizz and Kelly.

"Well, I'll be there to rehearse, with or without you," She called out to him as he moved away from her but he didn't respond. 

The meeting went relatively quickly, especially since Cassandra's thoughts seemed to be wondering to anything but the topic at hand. She mentally scolded herself for lack of participation and interest in the conversation. It was fortunate for her that the focus of that particular meeting was the other leadership domains meaning her participation wasn't as necessary as usual. 

She returned to the foyer of the auditorium shortly after the meeting concluded, exhausted and ready to take a 10 hour nap. But, having glanced down at the script in her bag at the entrance of the room, she willed herself to go in. She had work to do, even if her body needed rest. The auditorium was completely empty when she arrived. Once she made her way to the centre of the stage, she stared out into the endless rows of seats. The blonde slowly turned around, preferring to face the back of the stage while she worked and tied her in a neat ponytail. When she began reading her lines aloud, she broke the intense stillness in the air, her voice radiating off of the walls and echoing all around. She was just about to begin her second lengthy monologue when a loud voice interrupted her. A voice she knew very well. 

"Didn't they ever teach you in drama class that you're not supposed to turn your back on the audience?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes, but a small smile played at her lips. He had stayed after all. 

When she turned around, she saw him walking up the aisles of seats towards her. His dark curls messily framing his face, a bag slung over his shoulder. 

"You're still here?" She said, surprise evident in her voice.

The dark haired boy was moving steadily towards her.

"Couldn't let you do it all by yourself, could I?" He shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, it was pretty embarrassing when you did it on your own a few weeks ago, wasn't it?"

Cassandra quirked her eyebrows and tilted her head to one side.

"It wasn't that bad."

"Hmm, that's debatable."

"I thought you left anyway," Cassandra gave him a look as he ascended the stairs up to the stage, to which he let out a breathy laugh.

"I was about to."

Cassandra raised her eyebrows at him, as if awaiting his explanation. 

"Well, if you must know, I was about to leave but then Mr Sanders caught me in the hallway and informed me that I'm failing AP chemistry." He responded, sounding both irritated and amused at the same time, "So he gave me a good talking to."

The tall blonde raised her eyebrows before shaking her head, a bemused smile on her face. Harry frowned.

"What?"

Cassandra stared at him for a moment, twirling a piece of her blonde hair between her fingers.

"It's just...that must be infuriating for him."

"What are you talking about?" He said, evidently confused by her words, his dark curls falling into his eyes slightly.

"That...you're failing."

"What?" He said, his head snapping up immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"It's just..." Cassandra struggled to find the right words, "You're smart, Harry. Really smart. As much as I hate to admit it."

Harry looked up in surprise.

"But you don't apply yourself. You don't try, so you don't get the results you should be getting." She stated, matter a factly.

Harry's smile vanished immediately at that. He was now watching her with contempt written all over his face.

"Thanks for sharing that opinion that I didn't ask for," He snapped, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm just saying-"

"Well don't. Stop acting like you know me. You don't," He said, coldly, drawing himself up to his full height.

Cassandra nearly flinched at the coolness of his tone, eyeing him closely.

"I was just trying to help."

"No, you were doing what you always do," Harry took a step closer to her, as if to size her up, "Talking down to me, like I'm some kid,"

Cassandra's eyes widened in shock before she let out a laugh.

"That is not what I was doing." She exclaimed, incredulously, "I was just saying you have potential-"

"-potential? To do what? Be as good as you?" He spat, his eyes flashed with anger.

His face was so close to hers she could count the different shades of brown in his irises. His shapely face was distracting her and she knew it.

"Not what I said."

"'S what you meant though."

Cassandra bit her lip in frustration, raking a hand through her hair.

"You're impossible," She muttered, quietly, turning away from the dark haired boy.

Harry let out a laugh before walking over to the side of the stage where Cassandra's things were perched. In one swift movement he leaned over and swiped up her copy of the script and flipped through.

"So, let's do Act 2 Scene 4. Sound good?" He announced, bluntly, taking his position on the stage.

"I haven't learnt that scene yet." She said, almost sheepishly.

"All the more reason to do it if you're unprepared, Cassandra. Like you said, if you don't try and apply yourself, you won't get results." Harry stated, mockingly, "Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk."

Cassandra glared at him before snatching up his script from the floor and turning back to him.

"Fine." She said through gritted teeth. 

By delicately dancing around their other problems for the remainder of their time in the rehearsal room, they managed to somehow block the entire scene. It felt like stars were aligning when they actually agreed on creative decisions (which was rare) but they did get there in the end. A small part of her even liked working with him. He fought with her. He challenged her. He made her constantly think twice about things - something not many people did. Maybe she would actually enjoy his company if he wasn't the biggest asshole she had ever known. 

When they walked out of the auditorium some two hours later, their conversation remained somewhat amicable, something that surprised Cassandra greatly. Well, maybe that was an overstatement. They were bickering, but at least no one was yelling yet.

"Duke Orsino is selfish and conceited," She was saying as she stepped outside into the cold air, while Harry (surprisingly) held out the door for her, "He's oblivious to the feelings of others."

"Not true," Harry shook his head, following Cassandra out of the building, "He's just in love with someone who doesn't love him back. He's blinded by it."

"That doesn't mean he can act like an ass."

"No, but he's in love. People do stupid things when they're in love!" He stated, exasperated. 

"Didn't realise you knew anything about true love, Harry?" Cassandra said, smirking.

"Like we discussed before, you don't know me very well," He said, gruffly, giving her a look to which she shook her head, still grinning though.

As they reached the edge of the parking lot, Cassandra turned to him, a shy smile on her face.

"Hey, thanks, for um, for staying back and rehearsing with me," She said, quietly, "We uh, we got a lot done. For once."

"S fine," He said, shrugging his shoulder before turning away from her and walking towards his car. 

"As lovely as this has been, I do have to be going now," Harry said sarcastically, throwing a greasy smile her way, "If I don't show up soon, Clarke will have drunken all the booze."

Cassandra raised her eyebrows at him, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

"Clarke?"

"Oh, Clarke is having a house party tonight," He explained.

Cassandra mouth formed an 'O' shaped in realisation, before she nodded.

"Don't be offended, Cassandra. He didn't invite you because he knew you wouldn't come. You never come," He offered, patting her on the arm condescendingly. 

"On a school night? Really?" Cassandra asked, completely ignoring his comment and the way the hairs on her arm pricked up at the contact of his hand on her body.

Harry saw her disapproving look and rolled his eyes, leaning against the door of his car.

"Look, Cassandra, just because you would rather spend all your free time...I don't know studying or doing practise debates alone in your room, doesn't mean we all do," He said, holding back a laugh, "Some of us like to have fun during the semester, you know."

"I have fun," Cassandra said defensively, crossing her arms in front of her chest, leaning against her own car door which happened to be in the park next to his.

"Sure you do," He laughed leaning on the open car door. 

"I don't need to get drunk and take drugs to have good time, Harry." She stated, but to her surprise Harry's mocking smile immediately vanished from his face.

His eyes stayed on hers for a moment, hard and almost hurt looking. 

"Good for you, Cassandra." He said, coldly before yanking his car door shut almost violently, and starting his engine up, refusing to look at her. 

She watched him drive away, her eyes following his car till it was fully out of sight, evidently confused at his strange and somewhat abrupt departure from their conversation. So much for ending things on a good note, Cassandra thought to herself.


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it has taken me so long to update this and i'm sorry this chapter is a bit long but I'm trying to set up their dynamic for the next few :) 
> 
> a massive thank you to anyone who is reading it, it means a lot to me! us hassandra stans gotta stick together!  
> any comments or kudos would be greatly appreciated <3  
> thanks lovelies

The next week or so of rehearsals ran relatively smoothly, and the cast were all very proud of how quickly they had managed to block the entirety of Act 1. Cassandra felt her weeks nowadays practically revolved around rehearsals for this play (and that was only partly because she found some of her current classes mildly depressing). She didn't mind that though, especially because everyone else involved seemed as invested as she was in the work they were creating. Well, almost everyone, she thought as she noticed Harry out of the corner of her eye, entering their Global Politics class and sliding into a chair at the very back of the room. And he was late, as usual. Typical. She wondered if he had ever actually shown up to a scheduled class on time in his life? Once? Twice maybe? She certainly couldn't remember it.

As the class continued, Cassandra felt her interest waning as she attempted to absorb all the information being presented to her but Mr Hopkins' voice was incredibly monotone and dull, and as he droned on she felt her consciousness slowly slip away.

"Miss Pressman? Miss Pressman, are you with us?"

As she slowly opened her eyes, a blurry figure began to take shape in front of her, but the brightness of the lights were making it difficult for her to see who it was. It was almost blinding. Feeling both disorientated and drowsy she glanced over at the figure taking up the most space in her vision. Having blinked a few times and managing to fully take in her surroundings, her eyes landed on Mr Hopkins who was standing in front of her desk with his arms crossed, and immediately she jolted upright. Had she just fallen asleep in his class? It wouldn't have surprised her in all honestly as she had been extremely tired recently — must've been a side effect of the new heart medication she had been taking...

"I will ask you again, Miss Pressman, are you with us?" He said curtly, raising his eyebrows crossly at the tall blonde.

Cassandra sat up straight in her chair and nodded vigorously, while some of those around her began to laugh. As Mr Hopkins went back to the board and continued to write some notes, Cassandra felt her cheeks begin to redden. Helena, who was sitting to her left, placed a cold hand on her elbow as if to calm her, as well as giving her a reassuring smile. But Cassandra was already bracing herself for what was coming next, for whatever stupid comment Harry would make about this. It wasn't everyday that the Student body President fell asleep in class. Knowing him, he would probably never let her forget this.

But to her astonishment, no comment came, not even a laugh or snigger from his direction. She looked over her shoulder to glance at him and was surprised to see him leaning back against his chair, as if he hadn't even noticed the events that had just occurred at the front of the classroom. His expression was unreadable, but there was no humour in his eyes, that was certain. When the bell rung, not more than 5 minutes later, he left the room with that same expression and without a word.

That was strange, Cassandra thought, Harry giving up an opportunity to poke fun at her. It was almost a daily occurrence for him so it felt peculiar that he had left without even sending a mocking smile her way.

By the time Cassandra had arrived at rehearsal some hours later, she had been so engrossed in everything else she had almost forgotten about Harry's strange behaviour earlier that day. But when she found herself attempting to block a scene with him, she noticed it again.

"You cannot love her. You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?" Cassandra trilled, looking over at him, feigning the concern of her character. 

"There is no woman's sides can bide the beating of so strong a passion," Harry stated, blandly, his eyes conveying little to no emotion, "As love doth give...as love doth give..."

The dark haired boy trailed off before giving up entirely. Cassandra tilted her head to the side, awaiting his continuation of the soliloquy but all she received was an angry glare. 

"Stop looking at me like that," He muttered.

"Like, what?"

"Like I'm an idiot," He snapped, "I haven't learnt my lines, okay? Haven't had time. Sorry."

"We were supposed to have learnt our lines for Act 1 and 2 by now," Cassandra stated matter a factly, thinking back to what Mrs Marsha had informed them several weeks ago.  
"Yes, well I haven't done it, okay? Sorry for the inconvenience," He replied, dryly, not even looking her.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at the boy in front of her. 

"It's getting hard for me and the rest of the cast to rehearse with you when you don't do the work, Harry. Maybe think about someone other than yourself for a change."

To her surprise, the dark haired boy let out a laugh. Breathy and forced. 

"Wow, Pressman. You really are something else," 

"Yeah, and you're being more inconsiderate than usual," Cassandra said through gritted teeth, "Maybe if you actually put effort in and contributed, we could do something productive, or would that be too much effort for you?"

"You know what? Fuck you, Cassandra," Harry responded loudly, "You're the only one who gives a shit about this stupid play anyway."

"If it's so stupid, why did you decide to do it?"

"Just leave it, Cassandra."

"You're so unbelievably selfish, I can't believe you sometimes."

Harry just shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his penetrating glare still visible. 

"Maybe if you didn't act like an asshole all the fucking time, we wouldn't have to do this at every rehearsal." Cassandra said, almost crushing her script due to her grip being so tight, an angry glint in her normally calm blue eyes.

Harry's eyes hardened at her words, while Cassandra's mind flooded with regret at the words that had just left her mouth. Before she could even attempt to rectify the situation, he had begun to walk away from her towards the auditorium's exit. She stood there frozen for a moment before falling into step behind him as he moved closer and closer to the hallway.

"Well maybe if you got off your fucking high horse once in a while, I wouldn't actually hate you," He called over his shoulder, turning the heads of a few cast members as he went. 

"What so, you're leaving? You can't just leave!" Cassandra spluttered, sidestepping closer to him, in an attempt to block the doorway, suddenly aware of the spectacle they were creating and the dozens of eyes following them around.

"Says who? You? Look, Cassandra, being student body president may provide you with certain privileges but that doesn't mean you can just boss everyone around, all the goddamn time. Just fuck off." He yelled, pushing past her and walking back through the wings towards the stage door.

Cassandra went to go follow him out but Kelly who had suddenly appeared beside her, shook her head, giving her a look as if to say, don't worry, I'll handle him. She quickly followed in his general direction, leaving Will looking very disappointed. Cassandra turned around to see the rest of the cast, who had stopped their scenework and were watching them with a keen interest. She could practically feel heat rushing to her cheeks as she took a few steps towards Will, trying to hide her embarrassment at what everyone had just witnessed.

"I'm not that bossy, am I?" She whispered quietly, looking over at him.

"No...not that bossy. I mean, you're...firm and organised....which is good." He said, awkwardly as if struggling to find the right words.

"Firm and...organised?" She repeated, eyeing him closely, and he gulped slightly.

He nodded before giving her a weak smile and moving to the other side of the stage to pick up his bag.

Cassandra's feet remained glued to the spot, still unsure of how to react to what had just happened. She turned around slowly to look at the space where Harry had been just moments before. They always fought so she thought she should've been used to all of the things he would throw at her, but something about today felt different. There was no air of lightness or mockery; he was angry, furious even, but there was no life behind his eyes, they were just dark and menacing. Something about the look he gave her made her feel unsettled, like something was really wrong.

"He wasn't angry at just you today," A voice whispered from behind her, pulling her out of her unravelling thoughts.

Grizz was standing nearby, his hands tucked into the pockets of his white hoodie, giving her a weak smile.

"He's been in a real mood today, but he hasn't told anybody why," He continued, shrugging his shoulders, "I mean, he yelled at me for walking too close to him on the way to Calculus this morning."

"I don't know why you put up with him sometimes, Grizz," Cassandra sighed, walking over the other side of the stage to start gathering her own things, as rehearsal was evidently over.

"Me? What about you?"

"What about me?" Cassandra questioned, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"You guys are always at each other's throats, it's weird...I mean, you could just ignore him, you know," Grizz stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "If I didn't know better, I'd say there was something else going on between you two."

Cassandra's eyes widened in shock at that, and she whipped around to look at him, expecting to see a mocking smile on his face but instead he looked completely serious.

"Something else? Grizz, what are you on about?" Cassandra quipped, looking both confused and annoyed about his assumption.

He gave her a funny look before walking out of the auditorium, leaving Cassandra all alone on the stage, with her thoughts. Trying especially hard to ignore the last thing Grizz had said. Something else? What was he playing at? He clearly had no idea what he was talking about, she told herself. By the time she went to bed that night she had successfully managed to put to the situation out of her mind but by the next morning it all came back when she caught several people staring at her in the hallway. The odd looks she was getting only increased as the day went on especially when the news spread that Harry hadn't come to school. And the next day was exactly the same. Two days and he was a no show and people were starting to talk. Allie leaned into her side more as she noticed her sister tense up at the attention she was getting as they made their way through the main locker area.

"Hey, it's fine. People know how Harry can be, it's not your fault," Allie mumbled as they walked towards the cafeteria, "Probably just going through something."

"Yeah, and whatever it is, I definitely made it worse." The taller blonde sighed as they reached the end of the corridor.

"But you didn't cause it. He was pissed at everyone, Grizz even said so....he probably just took his anger out on you because, you're you. You're Cassandra Pressman...the known mortal enemy of Harry Bingham," Allie replied, half smiling.

"It's not funny, Allie," Cassandra said pausing in the doorway to give her sister a look.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Allie shook her head in response, "But you guys are constantly fighting. Maybe this is a sign that it needs to stop."

"I can't just make him stop fighting with me."

"No, but you could start by apologising," A voice cut in from nearby.

Standing on the other side of the door was none other than Kelly Aldrich, who was watching Cassandra with a fairly placid expression her face.

"Apologising?" Cassandra half spluttered, surprised and almost annoyed at Kelly's sudden intrusion into their conversation.

"Look, Cassandra, I know that you and Harry fight all the time, and I also know that he's not always right," Kelly stated in a calm voice, to which Cassandra nodded fervently, surprised at the kindness in her tone, "But you were pretty harsh with him the other day and he doesn't need that right now."

Allie gave Cassandra's hand a squeeze before walking over to Will who was standing by the trolley full of plates a couple metres away.

"What do you mean 'right now'?" Cassandra questioned, watching Allie slink away for a second before taking a step closer to Kelly so as to hear her better over the loud noises bouncing of the walls of the cafeteria.

Kelly bit her lip, concern evident in her eyes, as if she was unsure of whether or not she could disclose this information to Cassandra.

"It's his dad. Tuesday was the one year anniversary of his death." Kelly half whispered, and at her words, Cassandra's heart dropped.

"Shit" Cassandra breathed, guilt washing over her, as she raked a hand through her blonde waves.

"I know," Kelly agreed, "And he obviously hasn't...been handling it very well. I've been trying to talk to him but he won't say much."

Cassandra slowly nodded, taking a deep breathe out and leaning against the sideboard, watching Kelly closely. The shorter girl had tired eyes and her hair fell messily around her petite face.

"I should've known something was off." Cassandra muttered, quietly, moving her gaze to the floor.

"You weren't to know," Kelly said shaking her head, "But maybe you should go talk to him? Clear the air, you know?"

Cassandra's head shot up at that and she almost laughed.

"Wait, seriously? 'Clear the air'? This is Harry, we're talking about. We don't exactly talk to each other...voluntarily at least," Cassandra said, suddenly feeling too proud to even think of apologising.

"Well, it seems to me that you guys talk a lot actually..." Kelly replied, raising her eyebrows at Cassandra who opened her mouth to rebut but before she could, Kelly continued,

"Come on, I think it would be good for you both. He's really going through it right now and I know you hate him but it might be what he really needs right now. A truce, of sorts."

I don't hate him, Cassandra thought. Well, not exactly. 

"I was supposed to drop some of his textbooks off for him, but maybe you should do it," Kelly said, her eyes suddenly hopeful, as if Cassandra showing up on Harry's doorstep with a pile of homework would resolve all of their problems.

"I don't think that's such a good idea-"

"Please, Cassandra? I have prom committee now so I can't drop them off anyway," Kelly said again, almost pleading now, "After what he's been going through, it's the least you could do."

Cassandra bit her lip, wanting with every inch of her body to decline this dangerous suggestion, to shut it down. But part of her knew that even if they were constantly picking each other apart, they were somehow two sides of the same coin. Kelly was right. This was like a truce. If Harry really was going through something, then she had most definitely overstepped the other day, with her harsh comments about his lack of effort and selfishness (even if they were true, she thought). But she should go. Sure, they would probably be back to bickering this time next Thursday but it was worth a try. Maybe. 

"Okay, I'll do it. Where are the books?" She finally responded after some time, to which Kelly responded with a grateful smile.

As she hugged his books to her chest and made her way to her car, she wondered if it was the other way round, and had their roles been reversed, would Harry have done the same for her. She hoped he would.


	5. five

And that's how Cassandra Pressman ended up on Harry Bingham's doorstep at 4pm on a Thursday. The tall girl's hand hovered over the doorbell for a moment before she took a sharp intake of breathe and willed herself to press it. She never should have agreed to this, she thought to herself as she wrapped her jacket tighter round herself, to block the cold air. It wasn't long before a blonde figure began to form a blurry shape behind the tinted windows of the door. It then swung open revealing none other than Karen Bingham, Principal of West Ham High and Harry's mother. Her look of confusion quickly turned to one of delight at the sight of one of her supposed star pupils. 

"Cassandra, darling, it's lovely to see you," She said, smiling widely at her, though evidently sceptical at the young blonde's arrival.

"Hi Mrs Bingham," She said, timidly.

She couldn't believe she was really on his doorstep doing this.

"How are you, Cassandra? How is everything going? Are you excited about Yale?" The lady asked, gesturing for her to come in.

Cassandra, biting her lip in anticipation, slowly took a step inside, trying her best not to overstay her welcome. The sooner she could drop off Harry's books, the sooner she could leave.

"I can't tell you how proud we are that one of our best students is going to an Ivy League school. West Ham High is very proud of you and your accomplishments," She said, starting to lead the blonde towards the living room.

"Thank you, Mrs Bingham. I'm actually just here to drop off these books for Harry," She said, pausing in the doorway of the kitchen.

She had never been inside the Bingham household before and she had to say it really was the largest, most impressive house she had ever been in. The ceilings were higher than any she had seen in a house before and the modern architecture of it made it seem almost anachronistic, from some kind of dystopian period. She knew they were wealthy but she really, really hadn't expected this.

"Oh, he's upstairs. You can go up and see him if you like, I'm sure he'd love to see you!"

That's highly unlikely, Cassandra thought.

"I can just leave the books down here, I don't want to disturb him," She said, hoping that would satisfy the older blonde woman in front of her.

"Nonsense - go right on in, he could use some company. Second door on the left of the first landing," She said, cheerily before waddling out of the room, pointing her in the direction of the stairs.

It struck Cassandra as odd that Mrs Bingham could be in such a light happy mood when her son was upstairs, mourning his late father - her husband. Something about it didn't sit right with her. She slowly made her way to the stairs, walking up them slowly, wanting every step of the way to turn back. She would just drop off the books and go. In and out. Quick, easy and painless. But she knew anything involving Harry could never be any of those things.

\+ + +

Harry had been staring at his bedroom ceiling for so long now he could practically see every detail in the paint job. Every brush stroke, every uneven section. His eyes kept flitting back over a small cracked area in the corner, which was beginning to irritate him the more that he looked at it. That probably should be repainted, he thought, but something in him knew that that was never going to happen. He was most likely the only one to have noticed it and he knew he wouldn't fix it himself. Besides, no one ever really came in here other than him. Not even his own mother.

Sometimes Kelly did but he wasn't seeing much of her these days. He supposed they were still together but it was more out of comfort than anything else. She deserved better than him, he knew that. But she kept coming back for reasons he didn't know. He felt bad about it sometimes, but the rest of the time he was just grateful to have her company. Even when he got angry and lashed out, which he did more often than he dared to admit. He liked to push her away which didn't serve their relationship well either. But it was just how he was. Maybe a strange copying mechanism his father had. One of the many awful traits he had inherited from him.

He still hadn't spoken about his father much. With anyone, least of all Kelly. He didn't know why, but every time he wanted to, a lump formed in his throat and he couldn't get a word out, so he just bottled it up instead and changed the subject. But that was months ago though. His father had passed months ago. Harry thought he would have found a better way to deal with all of it by now but here he was one whole year later, staring at the ceiling, still feeling empty and hollow and confused. Getting smashed and high every weekend had become his only way of escaping his reality, the one in which his father was dead and his mother didn't give a damn about him. The drugs and booze didn't help with the loneliness though. That feeling always managed to creep back in no matter where he was. It made him feel numb. He felt alone even when he was surrounded by people. 

But he would never let them know that. He preferred to act the confident jerk and bury everything he was feeling. It was just easier that way, even if it was at the expense of other people's feelings. Better them than me though, he said to himself but he practically winced at his own selfish thoughts. 

The only person who really called him out on his dickhead behaviour was Cassandra. And of course she would. Perfect Cassandra Pressman could see right through him. Always. It made him angry how she could smell his bullshit from a mile away. How she always knew how to get under his skin, with just one look. That was why they were always at odds with each other, he supposed. They both knew exactly how to piss the other one off. It amused him, how they understood each other so well but at the same time didn't understand each other at all. All he knew was that if she spoke to him in that holier-than-thou tone of hers one more time in rehearsal, he might just snap. Thank god he had ditched school today.

As he shifted slightly on his bed into a more comfortable position, he began to hear footsteps on the stairs. He looked up in surprise. His mother didn't normally come up to check on him. They had a strained relationship, even before his dad passed so saying it was worse now would be a grand understatement. They had barely spoken about him. His mother, like him, was very good at hiding feelings and hated showing any signs of vulnerability. He didn't even think she had shed a tear since his death. He knew that his parents hadn't been affectionate for years but something about her reaction to it all made him feel uneasy. It made Harry angry. Furious, even. Suddenly riled up at thought of her coming in here, he sat up and called out, just as the footsteps reached his doorway.

"I don't wanna talk right now, mom, I'm not in the mood, okay?" He yelled out, coldly. 

To his surprise he was greeted by a smaller shy voice.

"Hi."

As soon as the words left her mouth, he whizzed around, in shock. What in the world was Cassandra fucking Pressman doing in his bedroom. He stared at her for a second, unsure of how to respond to her presence. 

"No fucking way," He said, looking at her in disbelief. 

Who the hell did she think she was, showing up at his door like this. Ignoring his comment, she took a small step closer to him, holding out what appeared to be a stack of textbooks and notes. 

"Kelly sent me," She muttered awkwardly, "She couldn't drop your things off so she asked me to do it."

Harry stared at her, still shocked at the fact that she was standing in his room, talking to him. Something about it felt odd. Wrong almost. 

"Was nice of you," Harry eventually said, looking away from her, the words coming out extremely forced, like a child being made to apologise to another kid by their parents after having done something wrong. 

She placed the books neatly onto his cluttered desk near the door and turned around to face him again, fiddling with the drawstring on her grey hoodie. 

"I also wanted to um...apologise," Her face reddened slightly as she spoke, "For what happened in rehearsal a few days ago, I was way too harsh and critical and it was really...insensitive of me. Especially given what you've been going through."

His ears perked up at that, and he tilted his head more to the side so as to get a good view of her. 

"What I've been 'going through'?"

He watched her awkwardly hug her arms to her chest, awaiting her response.

"Kelly told me about your dad..." She explained, tentatively taking a step closer.

He felt himself tense up at the mention of his father and yet for once, he didn't stop the conversation before it started like he usually did. Instead, he let her calming words wash over him while he continued to stare out the window. 

"I'm so sorry....this must be so hard for you and I...well I should've remembered that," She was looking at him almost guiltily, her sympathetic blue eyes hidden behind a curtain of blonde waves. 

"S not your fault" Harry shrugged, propped up on his elbow. 

A short silence followed, Harry torn between wanting her to leave him the fuck alone and also for some strange reason, craving the attention she was readily giving to him.

She spoke first. 

"Your dad...we never really talked about him," Cassandra mumbled, evidently trying not to overstep, "We were too busy fighting. Being assholes to each other."

"You mean, me being an asshole to you." Harry replied, dryly, .

"It goes both ways." Cassandra said quietly, looking at him intently.

"Come on, you know I was worse. Am worse." He rolled his eyes at her. 

She didn't know what to say to that. Instead, her eyes just followed him as he sat up properly and faced her, his eyes finally aligning with hers. Harry took her silence as a confirmation of what he had said. 

"Mom used to say we were alike, you know," He suddenly said, "My dad and I."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He really hadn't meant to open up that door now, the one he had been avoiding for months, and with Cassandra of all people. But once he had started speaking, he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. The blonde watched him, unsure of how to respond.

"I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. He drank a lot. Made a lot of mistakes. Big mistakes," Harry stared over at a small picture frame on his desk that was barely visible under all the clutter.

A small dark haired boy was being held on his father's shoulders, both of them smiling at the camera. His little face was so bright and warm and happy - as was his father's. He wondered if he would ever feel that way again. Cassandra had followed his eye line and was now also eyeing the photo, a small smile gracing her lips as she took in the photo of his younger self.

"But at least he wasn't like my mom who's only goddamn concern is the success of the school and maintaining our family's reputation. Which I've already besmirched, apparently, on a bunch of occasions." Harry said, letting out a dry laugh, finally taking his eyes off the photo, "My dad may have been an asshole but at least he saw me as an actual person, not a vehicle for success, or some shit like that."

He saw her out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke. She was looking at him with such pity.

"He wasn't exactly a good person. I know that." He continued, again unsure of where this sudden urge to talk about his father was coming from, "I don't want to say bad things about him but...I don't want to be him either. And I'm so fucking scared that I'll end up just like him."

He buried his face in his hands for a moment, unable to look at her. 

"We're not our parents, Harry." Cassandra said, softly, her eyes not leaving his, "We can choose our own paths, make new possibilities for ourselves. It's only difficult if we make it so. We don't have to be like them."

He could feel Cassandra's stare on him, and suddenly it made him feel self-conscious. Why was he telling her this? Why was he telling her any of this information? And, why was she being so nice to him? He wanted her to stop looking at him like that. With sympathy. He couldn't stand it. He wanted her to yell at him. To get angry. To fight him. Yet, here she was comforting him like they weren't each other's worst fucking nightmare - like they actually cared about each other.

He sat up, suddenly aware of how stupid he probably looked to her and immediately did what he knew best.

"Of course, perfect little Miss Pressman, coming through with the advice. Always got something to say, don't you." He drawled, finally looking her in the eyes, pulling himself out of his brief moment of weakness with his confident demeanour.

He watched her expression change at his words. There it was. He had successfully managed to ruin the moment. Like always.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She questioned, the softness in her eyes vanishing at his cold remark.

He could feel the tension between them again, the sense of amity having evaporated.

"You don't get it, do you, Pressman. You think you understand everything, like you're above everything. Perfect Cassandra Pressman. Can you ever just admit that some things aren't fucking perfect?" Harry almost shocked himself with the way it came out, cold and accusatory.

Her name was like venom on his tongue. When he saw the look of hurt on her face, he almost regretted it but nevertheless he continued.

"Have you just never dealt with hardship in your life? Is that why everything seems perfect and simple to you? Let me guess, tragedy has never ever hit the Pressman household? Am I right?" He said, almost laughing.

Cassandra stared at him, with a look of disbelief, her eyes watering slightly. She sat there for a moment before she turned back to him, her face stripped of sympathy and her eyes narrowed in on him.

"I'm sorry about your dad, really I am," She said bluntly, before standing up abruptly. 

"I never should have come here," She whispered more to herself than to him as she quickly walked towards his bedroom door.

He watched as she zipped her jacket up in a huff , her blonde bangs framing her stupid perfect face.

"Wait, Cassandra," He called to her just as she took a step into the hallway.

"What?"

She had turned back around, her expression a mixture of annoyance and confusion. He opened his mouth to say something else but in the end all he could muster was "Close the door on your way out."

The tall blonde let out a breathy laugh before shaking her head and slamming his bedroom door after her.

He probably deserved that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new update!!!! hope you enjoyed this one guys <3  
> any comments or kudos would be greatly appreciated, tysm!!


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!!  
> hope you enjoy <33  
> any kudos + comments would be greatly appreciated!  
> ily guys xo

She didn't see him for 4 days. He didn't show up for school on Friday and on Monday, he was avoiding her. Or at least, it appeared that way to her. Maybe he was still really angry with her or maybe she was just reading too much into it, like she always did. She couldn't believe how often her mind strayed to him. She hated him for it. But after their interactions these last few days, she hated herself too. Their fights had always seemed impersonal, superficial, petty. Yet, now personal feelings and deep-seated issues seemed to be interfering and the thought of that worried her. It was like the nasty insults and jokes were actually wounding them, to the point where she almost felt guilty about it, and the last thing she needed was to be getting attached to her arch enemy. 

When she saw him the following afternoon however, he seemed to have returned his regular irritating self. They lasted five minutes in the same room together before he had to made some stupid comment about her hoodie being 5 sizes too large (which in his defence, was completely valid). 

When she caught his eye as they were leaving their physics class, he got the impression that she wanted to talk so he began to move slowly behind her, dragging his feet (probably on purpose, Cassandra thought). 

She waited by the door of the classroom, motioning for him follow her out, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Harry was already talking. 

"So, I got called to the Counsellor's office yesterday," He stated quietly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "I wonder why that was."

Cassandra stared at him, her small smile suddenly faltering under his penetrating gaze.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Harry stated incredulously, eyes narrowing as she glanced guiltily up at him. 

The blonde opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. 

She knew she shouldn't have interfered but she couldn't help it. The night after she had left Harry's room in a huff several days earlier, she had found her thoughts unconsciously drifting back to him. She could still envision him; lying alone in his room, the moonlight dancing across his sickly pale face and unshaven skin, the dark circles around his eyes. The very thought of it made her shiver - that cold house devoid of any joy or warmth, the false smile painted across Mrs Bingham's face, the broken boy forgotten in the bedroom on the upstairs landing. 

She knew she should have just left it alone, but she was Cassandra Pressman, and she often had trouble leaving things alone. She knew she should but she couldn't. She just couldn't. So, she had contacted the Counsellor the following day at school and informed them of Harry's predicament. How she believed he probably needed someone to talk to considering he was seemingly bottling up everything he was feeling and his own mother seemed to be ignoring his own existence. She merely wanted him to know that there was somewhere he could go if he needed it, that's all. But in hindsight, perhaps that wasn't a good idea. Perhaps it was a terrible idea, actually. She had forgotten how Harry could be. She really had let her intense and confusing feelings for him override her logic. Again. 

"You just can't keep your nose out of other people's business, huh," Harry said, bitterly.

"I was trying to help you—"

"Sure. Sure, you were. And why, may I ask?" His tone was annoyed and impatient — cold. 

"What do you mean, why? I was worried about you," Cassandra spluttered, surprising even herself at her words.

And I didn't want you to be alone, she thought but the words died on her tongue. 

"Worried about me?" He scoffed, a loud laugh erupting from his throat.

"I was, okay?" The tall blonde snapped, her blue orbs watering with frustration, "You were in such a state when I saw you at your house—"

"When you invited yourself over, you mean?" 

Cassandra glared at him before going to speak again but the dark haired boy spoke first.

"You can't just make decisions about people's lives, especially people you don't even know—"

"But I do know you," Cassandra retorted, taking a step closer towards him. 

Harry's eyes darted over her face in shock at her words, but Cassandra only stood up taller. I know you pretty damn well, she thought. 

"Not well enough to know I would never willingly go to a fucking counsellor about my mess of a life, okay?"

"Maybe you should go though.....maybe that's what you need-"

"Don't you get it?" Harry was laughing again in disbelief, "It was not your place to make that call, okay? You had no fucking right." 

He spat the words out bitterly causing Cassandra to flinch slightly before taking a step away from him and lowering her gaze to the floor. 

But he had a point. Unfortunately. 

She knew that. 

But the pride within her always made it difficult for her to apologise — especially to someone who was equally as proud and stubborn as she was. But nevertheless, she relented. 

"You're right," She finally said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry." 

And she meant it. Which was rare looking back on all of their half-assed apologies over the years. The anger in his eyes slowly melted at that, however the irritated glare that always seemed to lace his features in her presence, remained. 

They stood in silence for a moment, Harry's eyes panning over her face, sceptically, before he let out a breathe. She felt her heart rate begin to speed up as he stood there watching her, unsure of what to say. 

"What did you want anyway?" He finally asked, leaning back against the wall behind them, swiping his dark curls out his eyes. 

She chanced a glance up at him, and seeing that he had calmed himself considerably, took it as a sign that perhaps the subject had been dropped, at least for the moment. 

"Mrs Marsha, she well...she cornered me after class. She said we need to have fully blocked our final scene before our next rehearsal. So, I was just going to ask you if you wanted to maybe practise after class today?" She asked hopefully, holding her books closely to her chest, breathing heavily.

He paused for a moment, really taking his time to respond. Probably attempting to come up with a reasonable excuse to get out of it, she supposed. 

"No, no, I'm not gonna do that," Harry ended up saying, tiredly, not even trying to hide his disinterest in her offer.

"Wow. Okay, never mind. Sorry, I asked." The blonde said as calmly as she could muster, before beginning to walk away from him. 

"Look, I never wanted to do this stupid play anyway, I don't even know why I agreed to it—" His loud voice called after her. 

"So you've said. But you're either in it or you're not," Cassandra said, stopping in her tracks to turn around and face him, her arms crossed stiffly in front of her chest. 

"What does that even mean?" Harry scoffed, pushing off the wall and moving closer to her. 

"Harry, it's four weeks out from the play and we still haven't rehearsed the final scene at all yet." Cassandra sighed, her patience waning more and more by the second.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, therefore we haven't even rehearsed the kiss scene yet," She said quickly, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She had spent much time deliberating whether or not to breach this subject with him. And as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake. She watched him, intensely trying to get a reaction out of him. As soon as she had read their kiss scene in the script she had been wondering how and when they would actually talk about it -- if they would talk about it at all, given who they were to each other. Friends turned foes.  Academic rivals. Mortal enemies. They hated each other and yet in four short weeks they would have to share a kiss under the bright lights of their auditorium's stage in front of everyone they knew. 

"Oh. Riiiight." He said, realisation dawning on him before he turned back to Cassandra, a smug smile creeping its way onto his face. 

"You sound a bit eager there, Cassandra." Harry said, mockingly, leaning back against the wall comfortably, "Are you that desperate for some action?" 

"Excuse me?" Cassandra hissed, whipping around to face him, her brows furrowed. 

"I'm just saying, I know you're a little too much for most of the guys around here, and I'd get it if you were excited about getting—”

"Harry, you have no right to make comments about my-"

"Oh wait, what about that scrawny guy, right? The kid who's into all that science shit, yeah? He definitely wants you." He chuckled, clearly enjoying this, "He's like a moth to your flame, that one."

"You mean, Gordie? Don't bring Gordie into this, for godsakes Harry," Cassandra half yelled, slamming her hand down a nearby table, "Gordie and I are just friends."

"Well, you should probably tell him that, Cass," Harry said, smirking, as Cassandra fumed in front of him.

"We're just friends," Cassandra said through gritted teeth, brushing her fringe out of her eyes, 

"I mean, it might work out between you two. You guys are probably more alike than you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassandra's eyes narrowed in on Harry's, full of contempt. 

"It's okay, Cass! Nothing to be ashamed of," He proclaimed, feigning sympathy and patting her hand condescendingly, "I'm sure you two aren't the only 18 year old virgins left in West Ham." 

And there it was. The final straw. 

He'd really gone too far this time. 

"You know what? Fine. Let's just not practise at all then, okay? Let's just leave it all up to random fuckin chance and see what happens? Sound good? Great." Cassandra seethed, glaring at him. "But if we end up looking like total and utter asses up there, that's on you, Harry." 

With that, she turned on her heel and marched away, her blonde waves bouncing around her shoulders as she walked.


	7. seven

They spent the rest of the week avoiding each other. 

Cassandra was still furious about what he said to her and Harry, well, when was he not furious with her for whatever reason? This mishap wasn't making their rehearsal time any easier though. Luckily for them, the scenes they rehearsed earlier that week were only their individual scenes, to both their relief. But their Monday rehearsal was not going to be good, Cassandra could feel it. They were supposed to have blocked their entire scene by Monday but she couldn't find it in herself to hassle Harry again, especially after their recent conversation. So she figured, for the first time in her life, let it slide. Do nothing. See what happens. But that didn't make the anxiety over it disappear to her dismay.

When she finally saw him in the wings before their rehearsal, she walked straight past, ignoring him completely. Unfortunately for her, Harry took this as an invitation to follow her and walked alongside her till she found her preferred spot in the wings. 

When she moved her gaze to him, she saw he was looking out into the small crowd of drama students and teachers who were seated in the auditorium. He then turned around to face her, but Cassandra was still looking in the opposite direction. She couldn't give him the satisfaction. Yet, instead of walking away and taking a hint, the dark haired boy stared at her, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

"What!?" Cassandra snapped, ignoring Harry's annoying smirk that she could still see in the corner of her eye. 

"How was your weekend?"

"What?"

"Your weekend?" He asked again, oblivious to her cold tone, "How was it?"

Cassandra just stared at him blankly while one of the teachers standing in the wings on the other side of the stage shushed them. Cassandra felt her fists clench. Was he seriously going to ignore what had happened just a few days ago? Because she sure as hell wasn't.

"It's a simple question," Harry said stubbornly, but lowering his voice as he leant against the pole behind him, eyeing her closely.

"It was fine," The blonde said stiffly before turning to him, a flicker of annoyance evident in her eyes, "What about you? Get any rehearsing done?"

Given that we didn't get to block or rehearse this entire final scene (including the kiss) and now we're performing it front of the rest of the cast, all of the stage crew and several of the teachers?

"I did, actually," Harry replied, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"Hmm, really?" Cassandra scoffed, raising her eyebrows before moving her gaze back to where Kelly and Will were performing in the centre of the stage.

"Yes, really," Harry said stubbornly, stepping closer to her so as to not let his voice carry out onto the seating of the auditorium.

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes...?" He answered, sending her a quizzical look, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

Cassandra turned to him, an evil smirk gracing her lips.

"Well, I think you just missed your cue so...."

And with that Harry's smug expression immediately vanished and he hurtled onto the stage erupting into his two-page monologue, leaving Cassandra laughing into the back of her hand.

She took a few deep breathes before she herself made her entrance onto the stage and into the scene. Kelly and her had practised several times early that week so their dialogue ran rather smoothly — it was the end of the scene that worried her. 

However as they moved through the act, Cassandra's nerves began to dissipate. But seeing Harry re-enter onto the stage for their final section, made a lump form in her throat. She hoped they would be able to make it out of this scene alive. Prayed, actually. 

But as the scene played out, Cassandra found herself almost amused by the whole thing, rather than worried. Watching Harry Bingham profess his love to her was a strange thing. Even if it was only him reciting soliloquies from a Shakespearean play. It felt odd to her - almost satisfying. Here was a boy, whom she knew hated her guts (the feeling was mutual) and yet here he was, practically asking for her hand in marriage. But Cassandra tried to quieten these thoughts in her head so as to focus on the scene. 

As they moved into the home stretch, her nerves returned but were quickly lessened when Harry took a step closer, holding his hand out to her. The blonde followed his lead, edging towards him and lacing her fingers delicately in his own, as she forced a loving smile. 

But when her eyes locked with his, she was almost shocked at how sincere Harry appeared to be —and how perfectly her hand seemed to fold into his.

"Your master quits you; and for your service done him, so much against the mettle of your sex, so far beneath your soft and tender breeding." He said, his eyes never leaving hers.

The intensity of his gaze made her breathe hitch in her throat. She stared intently back at him, trying to gauge his thoughts, anticipate his next actions. Would he go through with the kiss that was in the script? Would he ignore it completely? Would be embarrass her for a laugh? Somehow, she thought she knew the answer to that, and it took everything in her to not roll her eyes at his childishness.

Yet, to her surprise, he squeezed her hand gently as he said his next lines, his other hand lightly tracing circles on her lower back. She felt a shiver run up her spine.

"And since you call'd me master for so long," He continued, "Here is my hand, you shall from this time be, your master's mistress,"

His words came out slow and deliberate but before Cassandra could fully comprehend what was happening, Harry cupped her face in his hands and captured her lips in a kiss. A jolt of electricity immediately ran through her as his mouth moved gently against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed a second after his and she leaned into him slightly, letting herself be engulfed by his touch and his taste. The kiss was slow, purposeful, magnetic — Cassandra's heart thumping so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Because as much as she hated to admit it, this was what kissing was supposed to feel like. This wasn't like kissing Gordie at the middle school dance or even Seth McFarlane at Yale Admissions weekend earlier that year. This was different. This was like the kisses she always read about in the romance novels that she secretly hoarded in her room. It was so intoxicating she almost forgot it was Harry — her rival who she hated with a passion, who was kissing her — like his life depended on it, she might add. And she was so taken aback by him that she almost forgot it wasn't real.

But it was over all too soon, as Harry then pulled away from her and Cassandra was suddenly thrown back to reality and to the fact that forty or so students and teachers were watching them. She felt heat rush to her cheeks as Harry stepped back from her slightly. But the way he was looking down at her made her think that perhaps she wasn't the only one who'd lost themselves in the moment - even if only for a second.

When she finally moved her gaze away from him, she realised everyone was staring at her, causing the redness in her cheeks to transition from crimson to magenta.

"I think you missed your cue," Harry then whispered in her ear, half mischievously, clearly enjoying how flustered all of this was making her.

Drawing herself up to her full height, Cassandra collected herself and managed to finally get her line out, loud and clear, only momentarily delaying the action of the scene. Though as she spoke she could see out of the corner of her eye, Kelly watching her closely, a strange expression etched on her face.

Cassandra managed to keep Harry out of her vision as she delivered the rest of her lines and put all her energy into focusing on Kelly and Will. She just couldn't look him in the eye — not after what had just happened — specifically after the way her body had reacted to what had just happened. This wasn't like her at all. She was the calm and collected one. The logical one. Cassandra Pressman shouldn't have been thrown off by a stage kiss - especially given that it was in the script and the fact that she had done stage kisses before, several times. And yet somehow she couldn't shake the knotted feeling arising in her stomach.

After the completion of the rehearsal, they all made their way down the stairs to the seating for notes, Cassandra hurriedly moving ahead to find a seat next to Allie but by the time she reached the first row of chairs, Allie was surrounded and the only spare seat in the row was on the end next to none other than her arch enemy - who may or may not have kissed her not more than ten minutes ago. Not that she was still thinking about it.

"That final act is looking wonderful, guys." Miss Marsha said, looking at all of them, the other Drama and English teachers next to her nodding in agreement, "The blocking might need to be altered slightly to ensure you're visible to the audience sitting on the upper levels but other than that, I'm very impressed."

Kelly and Will exchanged a small smile at the comment while Cassandra, still refusing to look at Harry, forced a grin.

"And I could really feel the connection between Orsino and Viola in that final scene especially. Beautiful work," Mrs Sampson, their literature teacher piped up.

Cassandra felt Harry tense up next to her at the older lady's words and that same knotted feeling immediately returned to her stomach. Was he embarrassed?

"Yes, wonderful work. And you, Harry, I can tell that you've done some serious work this week, it's looking great," Miss Marsha said, smiling at him widely before looking over at the blonde next to him, "Not bad work tonight, Cassandra. Not bad."

And with that she bustled on out of the auditorium, the other teachers at her heels, leaving Cassandra with her mouth agape. Now she was back to reality. Not bad, Cassandra? Not. Bad? She could almost picture Harry's smug smile before she even turned around to look at him.

"Well, that was some nice feedback, huh?" He chirped, in an uncharacteristically optimistic tone.

"Yes. Yes, it was." She said, through gritted teeth.

Before he could say anything else that might annoy her, she stood up and spotted her sister on the other side of the room standing with Will and Grizz, and began to make her way over. She just couldn't bear to look at him again. But as she walked, she suddenly felt lightheaded, like she had gotten up too quickly, her mind a few steps ahead of her body. When she reached her sister, she latched onto a nearby railing to steady herself. What the hell was happening to her and why were there black spots appearing in her vision... 

By the time they had made it to the lockers and had gathered all their things, the sun was low in the sky - but Cassandra was struggling to keep her eyes open to see it, for reasons she still couldn't understand.

"So, mind telling me what that was back there?" Allie chirped, smirking slightly and leaning into her sister's side. 

"What..?" Cassandra half-whispered, shocked at the way her words came out, all breathy and quiet. 

Suddenly, a ringing sound pulsed through her ears, the sound of the outside world slowly fading out until everything went black.


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this has taken so long!! hope y'all enjoy it <3

As Harry made his way into school the next morning, he immediately regretted coming in. He had always been like that. Ever since middle school. Whenever he had woken up with unpleasant or unwelcome feelings that sent his mind into disarray, he chose to ignore the thunder dome that was West Ham High and stay at home, in the comfort of his room. He had gotten rather good at coming up with excuses for staying home too. Though, when his father had passed, he didn't need to anymore - no one could deny a grieving son his alone time.

But the feelings he was facing right now had nothing to do with that and all to do with the blonde haired student body president who he had willingly kissed out of nowhere not even twenty four hours before in their little rehearsal of Twelfth Night. Ever since it had happened, he'd had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he didn't even know why - though to be fair, he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it much if at all, continually forcing his mind onto other thoughts. It was all too confusing and Harry was rather good at avoiding his problems rather than facing them, so that's exactly what he was doing. However, he should've known that he couldn't bury the subject for long, considering it was the first thing Jason mentioned when he entered the locker hall.

"Ooh, morning lover boy!"

Harry ignored him and made his way over to his locker, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Clarke! Guess who's here!" He yelled, waving their mates over and Harry groaned internally.

This was going to be fun.

"So, how was rehearsal last night?" Clarke asked, innocently as he made his way over, Grizz trailing along behind him.

"Fine," Harry answered.

"It must've been pretty intense..." Jason said, smirking slightly and sharing a glance with Clarke while Grizz sent him a glare.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well...I mean, Cassandra..."

"So, we kissed in a play? Big deal. Where is she anyway?" Harry muttered, hurriedly looking around the room. She was nowhere in sight.

"Wait, you didn't hear?"

Harry just stared at them blankly.

"Apparently, after rehearsal yesterday Cassandra fainted in the locker room—"

"Yeah, probably because she was so overwhelmed by your kiss - how was that by the way?"

"Clarke!"

"What? It looked steamy, I was just asking. She looked into it, man, I mean her lips were like, blue when I saw her - some kiss that must've been huh, you bloody bruised her!"

"Shut the fuck up, Clarke," Grizz snapped, surprisingly, and Harry gave him a grateful smile, "It's not funny. She could be seriously ill."

Harry felt his stomach lurch at his words.

"Oh, okay. Sorry" Clarke responded, feigning worry and scratching his head, causing Jason to snigger.

"Do we know anything about what happened?" Harry asked, more quietly to Grizz.

"No, nothing yet. But surely they would tell us if something was really bad, right?" Grizz muttered quietly, giving the other guys an annoyed glance.

"I might go find Allie, maybe she can tell us."

To his surprise, Grizz scoffed at that.

"What?"

"Like Allie would tell you," He said, laughing, "Besides, she's not here either."

"Wait, she isn't here?" Harry asked, ignoring Grizz' comment.

"Haven't seen her, so I'm guessing no," He said, shrugging, before gathering books out of his locker and walking to class, trailing behind Clarke and Jason. 

Harry remained by his locker, watching his friends turn the corner. As he hovered for a moment, without thinking it through properly, he pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. He couldn't remember if he even had Cassandra's number — they didn't exactly text each other much but he had a feeling it might be somewhere there. 

Sure enough, there she was, their last text conversation dating back to six months ago, right before the student body president elections happened. She had wished him luck. He hadn't responded. Harry felt a pang in his chest at that.

Next thing he knew, he was calling her and not long after he was sent straight to her voice mail and it suddenly occurred to him that they didn't do this — they didn't check in with each other. It was in their unspoken code of rivalry. And yet, here he was doing exactly that.

"I, um....Cassandra, it's Harry here, um...just checkin in. I don't know what happened last night but I-I hope everything is okay and um....yeah that's all I wanted to say so um, call me yeah or don't...? Whatever...okay bye," Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and hurriedly hung up, mentally face palming himself at how fucking weird he sounded on that phone call.

He quickly shoved his phone into the pocket and made his way into class, desperately trying to forget what had just happened. 

The rest of the day dragged on without any dramas — in fact, Mr Sanders, his chemistry teacher even pulled him aside to let him know that he was no longer failing his class, which was surprising but also pleasing. What wasn't pleasing, was the look on Kelly's face the moment he had walked into their AP literature class that afternoon. She had barely looked at him all day but when they finally locked eyes, he wished she had just kept avoiding him. 

In the car on the way to his house after school, she didn't say a word. It wasn't until they were safely in the confines of his bedroom that she decided to finally speak. 

"We need to talk, Harry." She said, stoically.

"Thank god, because you haven't said a word to me all day," Harry said, attempting to bring a lightness to the mood but Kelly's expression remained unchanged. 

"Harry, I think we need to...end this...to break up,"

"Wait, what?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed immediately and he looked at her with concern.

"I...I don't think we should be together anymore."

Harry just stared at her, shock laced in his features.

"I don't understand — why? What's going on?" Harry started taking a step towards her.

Immediately, Kelly took a step back, her face tense.

"I think you know," Kelly bit back, impatiently, pacing towards the door, but before she could place her hand on the doorknob, Harry gently grabbed it.

"Kelly, can we just talk about this,"

"You and Cassandra—"

"What? There is no me and Cassandra-"

"Oh, sure."

"What the hell are you on about?"

"Come on, Harry. I'm not blind. I've seen you two together," Kelly said, frustratedly, "You know, we've spoken more about her than we have anything else these past few months — Cassandra this, Cassandra that..."

"Kelly, are you being serious right now?"

"Yes! It's like, she's all you think about! Maybe you never got over your middle school crush," Kelly sneered, and Harry let out a disbelieving laugh.

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm really not," Kelly snapped back, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Kelly, I hate her,"

"Do you though?"

"What?"

"Hate her? Because I don't think you do. Not really. And I don't she hates you either, I mean she came to your house about your dad, for crying out loud."

"Yeah, but after you told her too?! And I was fucking pissed about that, by the way."

"Right, that's why you cleaned up your act straight after she visited you?"

"For fuck's sake, Kelly."

"Even our teachers think you should be a thing, I mean honestly," She slammed her hand down on the table, her long hair falling into her eyes.

Harry stared at her for a moment before the impact of her words hit him and he almost laughed.

"Wait, is all this seriously about the kiss because that was just acting, Kelly, it was in the goddamn script!"

"It's not just about Cassandra and you, Harry! Things haven't been good between us for....for a long, long time," Kelly half whispered, watching him closely, "I think we've both known it too."

Harry stepped back, a half laugh spilling out from between his lips, disbelief evident in his face.

"This is insane, Kelly."

"No, it's the right thing to do. Just because I was there for you when your father....you don't owe me anything, okay?"

At that, Harry fell silent, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Look, can we just work this out?"

"We don't make each other happy anymore, Harry. Please don't fight me on this — you know it's the truth," She took a step closer towards him, her eyes also shiny with fresh tears.

"Kelly, I'm sorry for whatever you think I did but this is crazy-"

"Do you love me?"

"I..."

The words caught him off guard but when he went to respond, the words died on his tongue. Kelly's eyes immediately began to water.

"Exactly."

"Wait, no, that's not-"

"We both need a fresh start," She announced, trying to hide the sadness in her voice, "We're done."

Before Harry could say another word, Kelly had disappeared from his room.


	9. nine

The next couple days past in a blur. They visited the doctors the same evening Cassandra had lost consciousness and there, they were met with some unpleasant news. 

Her medication isn't working, they said. 

Her pills are not having the desired effects, they said. 

She's suffering some severe side effects, including constant drowsiness and fainting, they said, which is effecting her heart rate. 

We'll run some tests before trialling her on some new medication but if that fails, she'll have to go back into surgery, they said. 

Their words transported her back to freshman year, in that very same doctor's office. She had been given comfort and reassurance that they were in the home stretch, that things were looking up for her health and that after years of hospital visits, operations and treatments, they had found something that would help. But I guess that was short-lived, she thought. 

She didn't cry. Not when they arrived home from the doctors. Not after she had read up more on the diagnosis. Not after she overheard her mother crying to her father in the lounge room from the stairs. Not even after Allie had come in and buried her head into her shoulder and held her in silence for what felt like hours. 

Of course she could cry about it, and she had many times over the years. But if she let herself wallow in it too much, she would drown in it. The constant pain and anxiety she had put her family through. Even if it wasn't her fault. The guilt would eat her alive. 

So, she preferred to distract herself with other things. That's what she used to do in the past when her health issues flared up again. Sitting comfortably in her bed surrounded by books and a laptop, she finished her paper on foreign policy for her Global Politics class and then decided to go over her lines for the play, even though she practically had them all memorised. Perhaps, this was the way she dealt with it all — by working non stop. That's how she dealt with a lot things in actual fact. 

However, Allie quickly diagnosed this coping mechanism as stupid and proceeded into her room on the second evening with a few rom coms and a bag of Cheetos. She gave her three choices. Easy A, John Tucker Must Die or She's the man. 

All of them, Cassandra heard herself say, and before long they had made it through the first two, and were nearing the end of She's the man. Cassandra thoroughly enjoying the movie, especially due to how closely it resembled their own play, Twelfth Night. Yet, every time Viola and Duke were alone together in a scene, Cassandra felt herself tense next to Allie, for reasons she couldn't herself explain. It wasn't like she saw her and Harry in those characters - no way. But for some reason, she couldn't shake the strange uneasy feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach. When they reached the final scene, at the debutant ball, Cassandra felt Allie staring at her, with an odd smile etched on her face.

"Speaking of romance," Allie announced, evidently trying to appear nonchalant, "In rehearsal last week...that kiss was very...intense."

Cassandra internally groaned, knowing that this conversation would present itself at some point and talking about Harry Bingham especially while she was in this state was not something she wished to do. 

"You almost looked a bit flustered by it," She said, a hint of a smirk on her face,

Cassandra shook her head vehemently, her cheeks reddening slightly before pushing her laptop to the side and facing her sister. 

"I was not flustered," She stayed as calmly as she could muster.

"You almost looked like you enjoyed it—"

"I did not."

"You kinda did."

"Can we not talk about this, please?" Cassandra said, looking on edge, "I already think about Harry way more than I should."

"You do, do you?" Allie's eyebrows raised, her ever-present smirk reappearing. 

"Okay, not like that - I," Cassandra let out a frustrated sigh, "Just please, Al."

"Fine, Cass." Allie said, nodding, "But if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure he thinks about you a lot too."

"Why would you even think that?" Cassandra blurted, the words coming out in a rush, her face reddening slightly as she attempted to hide her disinterest in the conversation despite her outburst. 

"So, now you wanna talk about him, hm....?"

"Oh, what are we in, grade school?" Cassandra scoffed, lightly.

"Seriously, Cass."

"Seriously, I have nothing to say about him."

"Okay, okay. Whatever you say," She said, sceptically before leaving the room, her DVDs in tow.

At that exact moment, Cassandra's phone buzzed. She had completely forgotten, Allie had put it in on charge yesterday as it died shortly after they arrived home a day or two earlier. She slowly moved over to the windowsill, letting the harsh rays of moonlight wash over her face. When she saw the screen however, her eyes widened slightly. 

Grizz: 3 missed calls

Helena: 2 missed calls 

Harry Bingham: 2 missed calls, 1 voicemail message(s)

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed in on Harry's name, perplexed by it, before she tentatively picked up the phone and hovered her finger over the voicemail message, curiously. A knotted nervous feeling filled her stomach when she suddenly heard his voice on the other end of the phone. 

"I, um....Cassandra, it's Harry here, um...just checkin in. I don't know what happened last night but I-I hope everything is okay and um....yeah that's all I wanted to say so um, call me yeah or don't...? Whatever...okay bye,"

The blonde sat down on the edge of her windowsill, surprise settling in her features. That was bizarre, she thought. What the hell was that? And why did he sound so strange...so breathy...so anxious?

Harry Bingham wasn't one to show concern for others very often if at all. Cassandra might've felt flattered if she wasn't so damn confused by it and him.

She went to sleep that night, his name echoing through her mind in waves. Though, in some sense, she was thankful for the distraction he gave her. 

The next day, in a hospital waiting room, Cassandra fell asleep again on Allie's shoulder. Even the smallest movements seeming to take a toll on her. When she woke, she quickly responded to Grizz and Helena messages, explaining how she had come down with a bad virus. However, after having listened to Harry's voicemail for the third time, Cassandra felt she couldn't answer him. She just really didn't know what to say. 

When they were finally called in, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and readied herself for what she knew would be an unpleasant couple of hours. 

By the time the appointments had concluded, Cassandra having to leave the room multiple times with different nurses in order for them to take tests and gather samples, it was nearly dark outside. And the dark somber feeling in the air reflected Cassandra's mood perfectly. She sat back in their car, her head resting against the window, her mom glancing at her nervously every now and again through the mirror. She gave her a tense smile, which she hoped would reassure her somewhat that everything would be okay, when deep down none of them knew. Every time she saw her mother's worried and wearied face, her heart ached. Allie had chosen to sit in the backseat next to her, and was holding onto her hand tightly, but fervently avoiding her gaze. 

"Allie?" She called out to her sister, before she disappeared into her room later that night. The shorter blonde looked exhausted, dark rings circling her bright blue eyes. 

"Remember, what we talked about," Cassandra said, seriously, "No pity. And no worrying, okay?"

"Easier said that done," Allie replied, quietly.

"I know," Cassandra said, blinking tears away and pulling her sister into a tight hug.

It was times like these Cassandra was most grateful for her sister. The way she just understood her - no explanations necessary. Perhaps, that was the secret of the Pressman sister bond, they knew what the other needed and put the other first, always.


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas and happy holidays everyone!!!  
> enjoy this new chapter, i love y'all!!  
> thanks so much for the comments and kudos <3

After missing four days of school, Cassandra was relieved to hear that although she couldn't return properly till tomorrow, she could go to school that day in the late afternoon to pick up her other textbooks and speak with her teachers about what she had missed. She hated being behind, especially with the play being so close and finals coming up.

As she walked through the halls, going from classroom to classroom to her teachers, she managed to continue the narrative of her having come down with a bad virus whenever her absence was questioned. She had gotten rather good at lying about her health. Of course, the school nurse was aware of her condition, but Cassandra had begged her family to make sure that her health problems wouldn't complicate her school life -- thus why she had learnt the names of several less severe illnesses which she would often claim she had in freshman year if she was asked about her lack of attendance. She just preferred people not to know.

She had managed to remain relatively calm and collected despite everything these past few days, which hadn't been easy at all. It almost felt like a facade. She walked down the corridor, swinging her arms cheerfully at her sides, however it wasn't until she made it to the end of the hall and out of sight of any teachers that she finally let her shoulders droop.

She was finally alone with her thoughts, for what felt like the first time since any of this drama had happened and while she thought she could hold it together for a little longer, as soon as she had made it outside into the cool air of the night, past the outdoor greenhouses, it all began to seemingly unravel. As she stood next to the railing, looking out into the dark sky, she felt herself start to clamp up, a lump forming in her throat, her vision blurring slightly. She thought of her mother, her father...Allie....

She thought of having to say goodbye to them for a surgery she swore she would never have to go through again. Perhaps, she was spiralling, thinking for the worst which she usually tried not to do. And yet somehow she couldn't help but give in to the fear she had been bottling up and burying inside herself for days. She hadn't wanted to worry anyone. And that's why she wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not now. But the more she held back, the more her bottom lip began to tremble, and tears began to fog her vision. Before long, they were streaming down her cheeks and she found much to her dismay, that once she had started, it seemed impossible to stop. She sobbed until her throat hurt and her whole body ached.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Harry was on the stairwell about to leave the Physics building when he heard it. Crying. At least, that's what it sounded like. Coming from above him. He looked up, curiously, debating whether or not to follow the sounds. It was rather cold outside and it struck him as odd that someone would be on the balcony of the science building at this hour. He slowly moved towards the doorway, the cries having quieted down now to sniffs and small sobs. As he stepped out into the cold night air, his eyes widened in surprise at the sight he saw on the other side of the balcony.

Cassandra Pressman was sitting curled up next to the railing, turned away from him. Cassandra Pressman, whom he hadn't seen in days, since she mysteriously disappeared from school, and refused to answer any of his calls. He had heard from Grizz that she had a bad virus or something along the lines of that yet that still didn't explain why she was sitting alone on the balcony of the silence building on a Tuesday night, crying. In his surprise, the door behind him slipped out of his grip and slammed, causing the blonde to whizz around in fright.

"Oh god," She breathed, at the sight of him, hurriedly wiping her tears and fixing her face.

She was looking at him as if he was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. And he couldn't blame her. No one ever saw her break, she put up walls so high. She was almost as guarded as he was and he knew how awful it felt the last time she saw him vulnerable. Felt like she had won. Or something.

"You...okay?" He said, weakly, desperately wishing he had walked away before she had caught sight of him.

"What do you honestly think, Harry?" She snapped, smudging stained mascara off her cheek, looking flustered.

"I don't know...you didn't answer my calls," He mumbled, sounding slightly defensive.

She stared at him for a moment before looking away again.

"I didn't want to talk," She said, stiffly, "Can you just leave."

Harry shifted awkwardly on the spot, wishing more than ever to just leave yet his feet felt rooted to the ground.

"What are you doing up here anyway?" He ended up asking almost casually, looking around at the clear sky above them, "Strange place to go..."

"Oh shut up, Harry."

"Why were you crying?"

"I said, go away." She said, but without her usual tone of annoyance.

Instead it came out dry and without energy. Harry gazed at her, solemnly for a moment. The left side of her face was lit up by the moonlight, her long lashes and tan freckles still visible even in the dark. But her eyes were sad and blurred with tears, lacking their normal warmth. He hesitated on the landing, unsure of whether to approach her - whether he was welcome.

"What are you still doing here?" She half whispered, and he stared at her, seemingly tongue tied. 

Cassandra turned around to look at him, eyes narrowed.

"Well...I..."

"Do you care or something?" Cassandra scoffed, bitterly, fixing her gaze outwards once more.

Harry stared at her, a strange knotted feeling arriving in his stomach at her words. He ran a hand through his hair, unsure how to answer her question, unsure of where they stood with each other. So, he stood in silence for a moment.

"Look, do you wanna talk about it?" He asked quietly, seemingly abashed, "About whatever's going on."

But Cassandra didn't so much as look at him or even acknowledge his words. She merely continued staring out into the night sky, avoiding his gaze. They were enveloped in silence once more.

"You came to me about my dad," He said finally, "And I was an asshole about it. I'm sorry. But, if you want, you can talk to me now. Only if you want."

The words came out hesitant and quiet, with an air of awkwardness too. Being civil towards her wasn't something he was accustomed to. It almost felt wrong.

She slowly turned back around to face him, their eyes meeting. The hardness in her gaze softened slightly. She wiped her tears on her sleeve before finally answering, her voice coming out strained and fatigued.

"Let's just say, I got some pretty shitty news this week."

Harry turned to her, and watched as she looked out into the night sky, waiting for her to go on.

"I'm probably going to have to go into surgery again," She barely got out, before he noticed her start to choke up again.

Harry gave her a quizzical look. Surgery?

"Wait, what do you mean?"

She turned to him, her eyes looking glassy and moist with tears, before she began unbuttoning her shirt.

"What are you doing?" Harry questioned, leaning back slightly in shock.

"Relax," Cassandra huffed, rolling her eyes, "It's not like you've never seen a girl's chest before, jesus."

She unbuttoned it half way down before parting the shirt slightly and Harry's eyes widened at what he saw: a long jagged scar down the centre of her chest, rising slightly above her otherwise smooth pale skin.

"It's a congenital heart defect," She explained, avoiding his gaze as she spoke, "I was born with it. I've been in and out of hospital since I was young."

Harry couldn't look away from it, concern growing in his eyes. He certainly had not expected this.

"Anyway, apparently my medication isn't having the desired effects, so I might need to go back into surgery in the next month or so."

"Have you had it before? The surgery?" Harry asked, his own voice thick with emotion.

"Yes," She replied slowly, "Several times. But it's open heart surgery so....nothing is guaranteed."

Harry nodded quickly, trying to process this new information.

"I had no idea, about this," He said, almost awkwardly.

"You wouldn't, no one really knows," She said, stoically, "Besides, it hasn't been a serious issue since middle school, when I first got my pacemaker."

"Why wouldn't you tell anyone?" Harry asked, edging closer to her.

Cassandra let out a sign before shifting herself round to face him more.

"People....they get weird when they know. They treat you differently when you're sick, like you're fragile....broken..... I hate it."

"I don't think that," Harry whispered and Cassandra's head whipped up in surprise at his words, "I think it makes you.....I don't know — strong."

The smallest of smiles crept onto Cassandra's face at that and Harry looked sheepishly back at her. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Cassandra spoke.

"I don't really wanna talk about it anymore," She mumbled, looking away from him and he nodded immediately.

"Okay, sure," Harry said, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

"Well uh, Grizz drove me to school this morning so I don't have my car. I'm just hanging out for a lift from my mom. She's still in her office," Harry replied.

"I mean, up here....This is where people go to sit and think.....or cry," Cassandra said, almost amused.

Harry paused, not knowing how to continue.

"Trust me, hearing what you've told me.....my problems sound minuscule in comparison."

"Shut up, Harry. Just tell me," Cassandra said, nudging him playfully, to which Harry gave her an amused look, "Really. I could use a distraction anyway."

"It's nothing....it's just....well, Kelly broke with me."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

"That sucks," Cassandra said, earnestly, but for some reason unbeknownst to Harry, her cheeks reddened slightly.

"Yeah. But it's okay. I mean, she was right," He said, plainly, "We hadn't been working for a long time, you know?"

"Yeah," Cassandra said, understandingly.

"I just, I feel bad about it, like she had to put up with so much shit - that I was dealing with. I don't know, kind of feel like I—"

"—owe her?" Cassandra finished for him, giving him a sad smile.

"Yeah....exactly."

How was it that his supposed enemy knew him better than anyone else?

"You shouldn't feel bad, people change. Feelings change..." Cassandra trailed off, turning away slightly, "I'm sure she understands that."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said, quietly, the words exchanged during their break up replaying in his mind.

He remembered Cassandra's name being thrown around more than once, too.

"Hey, I never um, apologised to you for...what I said. A couple weeks ago...." He suddenly blurted, avoiding her gaze, "I was out of line."

Cassandra's eyes hardened at that. Looking at her face, he immediately regretted bring it up at all.

"You were out of line? Harry, you were so far from the line that you couldn't even see it anymore." Cassandra retorted, buttoning up her shirt suddenly.

Harry could tell the events from a few weeks ago were fresh in her mind again.

"Yeah — I know, you're right. And I'm so sorry." He replied, the words coming out awkwardly, "I was wrong to make fun of you for, you know.....being a virgin."

Cassandra stared at him, eyeing him curiously, surprised at how genuinely apologetic he sounded. Harry swallowed before continuing.

"It really wasn't my place to say anything. I was a complete jackass."

She stared at him, looking gobsmacked. Harry didn't blame her. He never liked to admit he was wrong. Ever. It would damage his pride too much. Yet, here he was apologising to the one girl he swore he would never submit to, and genuinely meaning every word of it.

"Look, Cassandra, I'm sorry. I really am. And if you are a virgin, then that's one hundred percent—"

"I'm not a virgin."

"— okay and I want - wait, what?!" Harry's head snapped up, confusion evident in his eyes.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not." She said nonchalantly, but her face was a glowing shade of crimson.

Harry stared at her and she held his gaze for as long as she could, before turning away in an attempt to conceal the heat rushing to her cheeks.

For a moment, he didn't speak, unsure of what to say. It was her who spoke next.

"I just didn't think it was nice to go round making assumptions about people." She mumbled, almost awkwardly, knotting her fingers together.

"That's fair enough." Harry said honestly, as he watched her pull a loose strand of hair out of her eyes and tuck it neatly behind her ear.

"You're surprised?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at him, launching him out of his own thoughts.

"What? No, no, I'm not." He replied, a little too quickly.

How could he be? Honestly. He thought to himself. Despite spending so many years trying to convince himself that she was unattractive, he always knew that deep down that it wasn't true. That he was lying to himself. Her small build and creamy skin, and soft blonde waves always framing the small delicate features on her face.

"Well, thank you for saying that. I appreciate it."

"And the...the kiss in the rehearsal...I should've um, should've told you or warned you or something." He said, sheepishly, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Now it was his turn to avoid her eyeline.

"No, it was fine," She replied, quietly,

"You sure?"

"Yeah. The kiss was....good."

He finally looked up at her, his dark eyes sparkling. They stared at each other for a moment before Cassandra broke away from his gaze.

"For the scene, I mean. The kiss was good for the scene." She corrected, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, for the scene, of course." He added, quickly, running a hand through his ruffled curls.

An awkward silence fell between them. Pulling her jacket tighter around her small frame, Cassandra glanced over at him.

"I should probably get going," She mumbled, standing up slowly and taking a step away from the railing, "Mum might be getting worried..."

Harry nodded, immediately standing up and following suit.

"I'll walk you down to the parking lot," Harry said, quickly, to which Cassandra sent him a surprised grin.

"I think that's the most gentleman-ly thing you've ever done, Harry," She muttered, smirking as she walked slightly ahead of him down the stairs.

Harry rolled his eyes as he trailed behind her, shaking his head.

"Don't get used to it then," He said, but his tone was light and he was holding back a smile.

"Wouldn't dream of it," The blonde whispered, a devilish grin painted on her perfect lips, causing Harry's breathe to hitch in his throat.

Once they made it to the path leading out to the carpark, Harry was finally walking in line with her, stealing glances at her every now and again without uttering a word. Upon reaching her car, Cassandra turned around to face him.

"Thank you," She said, "For, um...talking with me. It was nice to...talk..."

Harry noticed shades of pink appearing in her otherwise pale cheeks as she spoke and fished around in her bag for her keys.

"It was."

It was all Harry could think to say. Because talking to Cassandra Pressman for what felt like hours on a Tuesday night wasn't how he imagined his evening would go. She was never part of his plan yet somehow she always seemed to creep in at the last second. And it didn't really seem like a bad thing anymore. 

As she turned to open the car door she paused, slowly, looking down in hesitation before meeting his gaze again.

"Would you mind not telling anyone...about...you know..." She trailed off, her eyes never leaving his.

"Of course. My lips are sealed."

"Thank you."

She smiled at him for a moment before opening the car door and settling in the driver's seat. Harry leaned against the lamp post, watching her drive away until her car faded into the darkness of the surrounding trees and sky.


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry it has taken me so long to update! i've been really busy and i also got distracted because i started writing two shorter hassandra one shots which i will be posting soon lol. anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

"How is that fitting on you?"

Cassandra stepped out of the dressing rooms in the back rooms of the auditorium, fiddling with the frilly collar she now adorned around her neck. It was a chilly Tuesday morning, and Cassandra was already wishing she had brought more layers to school. When she had sat outside on the rooftop at that same school talking to Harry barely four days ago, wearing nothing but a cotton dress and a light hoodie, she hadn't felt this cold. She really did hate the unpredictable weather in West Ham. Changing in and out of costumes in a building which seemed to no longer have a functioning heater was not going to be a fun occasion. Mrs Marsha who was standing outside had certainly dressed for the day, bundled in a fluffy scarf. Next to her stood, Miss Layton, another drama teacher who was in charge of costumes for the production. 

"Pretty well, I guess," The blonde shrugged, turning on the spot so they could get a better look.

"That looks wonderful, dear!" Miss Layton exclaimed, excitedly. 

"The collar could be loosened maybe a little," She said, tugging it away from her neck where it seemed to be restricting her airways.

The two teachers nodded, one of them noting it down. 

"You can head to the stage and prepare for the dress rehearsal now, Cassandra," Miss Layton said, patting her on the shoulder and opening the door for her. 

The blonde smiled at the two teachers before stepping into the hall and closing the door quietly behind her. She was already eager to get the costume off, despite having worn it for under five minutes. The material was tight in all the wrong places and she could feel the scratchy material making red marks on her skin.

"Well, don't you look dashing" A voice noted sarcastically, from a few metres away. 

She stopped in her tracks, holding back a smile with a sigh and saying "Harry," before she even turned around. 

"Cassandra, I know your closet is to die for, but I must say this new look — tops every other outfit you've worn."

At that, Cassandra turned around to face him. The smile he adorned when she saw him, was playful and teasing, without the malice that he once showed when directing his attention towards her. Since their encounter on the rooftop, the air between them seemed...different. Less intense, less like they were fighting each other to the death. Who knows, maybe they weren't anymore. 

"Didn't realise you payed that much attention to what I wore." Cassandra was smirking now.

She immediately noticed heat flood to his cheeks at that as he fumbled around for a response. She raised her brows at him.

"Well, it's hard not to notice. You dress like a conservative 60 year old woman. Or a hippie. There's no inbetween." Harry swallowed, forcing the words out as nonchalantly as he could, it seemed.

She laughed at that, before taking her hat off and walking over to him.

"Well, you're going to love your costume. The pantyhose are to die for. They'll do wonders for your figure, Harry," She trilled, placing the hat she'd been wearing sloppily onto his head, with a grin.

"Thanks, Pressman. At least I won't have to wear a fake moustache that doesn't match my hair colour," He said, teasingly, Cassandra playfully slapping him on the arm in response.

And with that, she swiftly left the room to let him get changed, smiling to herself as she made her way to the auditorium stage.

"What was that?"

Cassandra whizzed around to find Grizz standing behind her, having just exited the production team's green room. 

"What was what?" Cassandra was staring at the strange expression on Grizz' face, confused, as they walked through the wings.

"You. Harry...what's going on with you two?" He asked, curiously, stepping closer to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Just before in the dressing rooms....I heard you guys....you were actually...kind of getting along..." Grizz joked, his eyebrows raised at her and he almost looked excited.

Cassandra looked over at him, in surprise.

"Well, maybe we've turned over a new leaf," She replied, ignoring the deep gnawing feeling within her that kept saying it was much more than that — at least to her anyway.

"Wait, really?" 

"Yeah, I mean, maybe," She replied, casually.

"You don't know how long I've waited for you two to stop being dicks to each other," Grizz said, letting out a dramatic exhale, as they stepped near the stage.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, it's Harry we're talking about. So, who knows how long this ceasefire will last."

"Yeah, we'll see. Anyway, speak of the devil," Grizz said, as his gaze moved from hers to a figure coming up behind her. 

Cassandra let out a laugh when she saw him. Harry had just stepped out from the wings, a few feet away, dressed head to toe, in his very extravagant costume. 

"What did I tell you?" She chortled, grinning. 

"It is rather incredible," Harry said, doing a twirl to show her the full look, a knowing smile on his face.

"I hate to admit it but I think you look better than me," Cassandra replied, as she took in his full appearance.

"No. No, I don't." Harry said, quickly.

"Yes," She quipped, "You really do — I think you're made for this era of clothing. Tights and ruffles. It's very you, Harry."

Harry frowned at that, crossing his arms in front of his chest, like a child holding in a temper tantrum. Cassandra was still smiling at him, hands on her hips.

"Well, it's not fair that you actually still look good in your costume."

"I do, do I?" Cassandra questioned, jokingly.

"Yeah. You really do," He said, but this time with an air of sincerity.

Cassandra's stomach lurched at his prolonged gaze on her. Why was it that everything he did seemed to have such an affect on her?

"What are you doing?" She blurted, accusingly before she could stop herself.

"What? I wasn't doing anything."

"You're looking at me weird," She stuttered. 

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"Why are you picking a fight right now?" He demanded, sounding both annoyed and amused.

"I'm not picking a fight," She replied, defensively. 

"Wow," Harry snorted, "We lasted about 20 seconds being civil, didn't we."

Cassandra laughed heartily and at that, a smile snaked its way back onto Harry's face.

"You know, Grizz thinks we've turned over a new leaf," Cassandra stated, knowingly.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "Does he? He said that?"

"Well, I technically I said it."

"Oh right...is that what...you think?"

"I don't know maybe," Cassandra said, with a shrug, "What do you think?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, that same shy smile from earlier reappearing on his face --

"Harry, Cassandra, Will — please take your positions we're running from the top of the second act," Mrs Marsha called to them, as she entered from the back door of the auditorium, clipboard in hand. 

"Saved by the bell," The blonde whispered to Harry as she moved to her spot on the stage.

 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

 

The dress rehearsals went by with little to no dramas, thus when the night of the performance finally arrived, Cassandra was feeling satisfied. She felt surprisingly confident with the work she had put in, despite the minor setbacks involving her health which she had resided not to think about for the duration of the performance night. The last thing she needed right now was to be reminded of the MRI she was to undergo in a few weeks time. She would worry about that when the time came.

As she completed the finishing touches on her make up with the help of Helena and Allie, she stepped out of the dressing room into the hall. Maybe the nerves were settling in a little, she thought, as the voices of the audience echoed down the hall. 

"Cassandra, you ready?" Allie said, nudging her gently, as she walked by her side.

She nodded, linking arms with her sister who was already sporting her headset and had her clipboard at the ready. 

"You're going to be amazing," The shorter blonde exclaimed and Cassandra smiled nervously. 

"So will you," She nodded, "I'll see you after, okay? Good luck, Al!"

As Allie quickly moved ahead of her towards the backstage entrance, Cassandra spotted Will and Kelly standing near the vending machines. Kelly was running lines with him, and laughing while he was trying to pull the script out of her hands. As Cassandra got closer Kelly looked over at her and Cassandra was surprised to see her send a warm smile her way. 

"Good luck tonight, Kelly, Will," She called out to them, "Let's smash it!"

They both wished her luck too, as she moved away from them and into the back of the wings. To her surprise, Harry was already there waiting for her. Being punctual was definitely not Harry's strong suit, but at least he knew when it was really necessary. He saw her before she made her way over to them, and she could have sworn she saw him breath a sigh of relief at the sight of her. He had a little stage make up on which Cassandra was sure he would've hated and his hair was slicked and styled back out of his eyes. He looked, dare she say, handsome. Not that she would ever in right mind tell him that. 

"Hey," Cassandra whispered to him, as she sidled up to him in the wings.

There wasn't much space for two of them and Cassandra felt her breathe hitch in her throat as she realised how closely they were standing together. Harry looked away from the audience which he had been taking a peak at, and turned to her slowly. He had a nervous look on his face.

"You okay?" She asked him, calmly.

"Yeah. No, I'm good," Harry said, unconvincingly, clearing his throat and standing up straighter.

After a brief pause, Cassandra watching Harry's eyes flitting between the stage and the people in the audience, she spoke once more.

"It's okay to be nervous, you know," She said, "After all, you haven't done a stage play since, what, middle school?"

"Oh yeah," Harry said, a half smile appearing on his face as he rolled his eyes, "I was what, Tree number 6? And you were Little Red Riding Hood."

Cassandra stifled a laugh into the back of her hand before muttering, "You were a great tree."

"Why, thank you."

They stood in silence for a moment, the auditorium filling up more and more the longer they stood there.

"Your family here yet?" Harry muttered, nodding out to the elevated seating.

Cassandra leaned across him to get a better look, straining her eyes but to no avail. She couldn't find them in the crowds of adults and children. She assumed they were seated somewhere in the middle of the hall. That's where they usually were.

"Can't see them," She replied, "Your mom and sister here tonight?"

"Yep. Mom's front row with Dana," Harry replied, sounding annoyed, "So, she can get the best view of me fucking up on stage and embarrassing her."

Cassandra looked back at him, shocked at his tone.

"Harry, that's not—"

"It's true," He sighed, frustratedly, " I could give an Oscar award winning performance up there and it still wouldn't be enough for my mom. Nothing ever is."

The blonde was eyeing him closely, pity laced in her features. Harry turned back towards her, and opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. Cassandra sent him a quizzical look.

"What is it?" The words came out soft and calm.

He hesitated once more before letting out a long exhale. 

"You know, I think that's why I wanted the student presidency so bad. I thought, if I get this, maybe just maybe, mom will actually get off my back for once. And like, not hate me."

He shifted slightly, to get a better view of her, the stage lights making his brown eyes glimmer. He looked embarrassed.

"You know what — fuck her, Harry," Cassandra said, resolutely, Harry's eyes widening in surprise at her words.

"You're going to be great tonight, I know it. You rise to the occasion. You're good like that," She said, knowingly.

As the impact of her words hit him, his face broke into a small timid smile, one which Cassandra didn't think she had ever seen on him before. It was warm and genuine. And bashful, almost. As the doors of the hall shut, and light began to go down, Cassandra stepped back slightly to allow him more space for his big entrance. But before she could move away entirely, she felt his hand tentatively latch onto hers for a second, giving it a tight squeeze.

"You too. See you out there," He breathed in her ear, and she nodded resolutely.

The first two acts went by very quickly. Laughter bounced off the walls, the playful energy spreading throughout the audience. By the time Cassandra was dressed and ready for the final act, the nerves had left her almost completely. The costume changes hadn't been too stressful, no one had lost a prop yet and not one line had been forgotten - well, none of the important ones at least. Perhaps most importantly for the actors, the stage lights were so blinding that the faces of the crowd were hardly visible, making it all the more easier to fall out of reality and into the world of Shakespeare. 

When they reached the final scene, the dialogue was flowing easily. Will and Kelly didn't miss a beat, just like they had rehearsed and Harry's entrance was smooth as always. By the time it was Cassandra's turn to speak, the words fell from her tongue easily, without her having to think too hard, the movements and words in her bones. And perhaps in Harry's too. They locked eyes about half way through and he sent her a reassuring smile as the moment they had been waiting for drew nearer and nearer. When the time came, the rest of the room fell away and all she could see was him.

He slowly took a step closer, his eyes lingering on her and as heat rushed to her cheeks, Cassandra began to wish she didn't telegraph everything that she felt across her face. Placing his hands gently on her cheeks, he closed the gap between them quickly, his lips firmly pressing against hers. They both knew what to expect this time, their mouths finding a rhythm almost immediately. And yet, this time felt different from the other rehearsals. Like there was more at stake. She felt him kiss her like it might be the last time — because maybe it would be. Maybe this strange bubble of fantasy would burst the second they stepped off that stage, and maybe they would never be able to do this again without the fear of the impending aftermath and the consequences that would follow. But at that point, Cassandra found herself no longer caring. Let the world implode, she thought, let everything come crashing down in her life, if only she could live in the here and now a little longer. 


	12. twelve

Barely an hour had passed since the conclusion of the play, and Cassandra found herself yet again on Harry's doorstep, Allie and Will at her side. Echoes of music and laughter could be heard from inside, the bass beat pulsing through the air around them. There had always been talk of having an after party the night of their performance, but for weeks the blonde had convinced herself she wouldn't attend. She wasn't much for parties; in fact, part of her wished she could turn around and go home then and there, but with Allie's gentle touch on her forearm guiding her forward, she reluctantly gave in.

The house was already bustling with people, Cassandra noting Kelly and Gwen deep in conversation and Helena leaning against the wall, her arms around Luke's neck. As they made their way to the main back end of the house,she felt Allie and Will peel off pretty quickly in search for drinks.

That's when she saw him. He was standing in kitchen listening to Clarke excitedly tell a story, gesturing wildly. He locked eyes with her from across the room almost immediately and Cassandra felt her insides heat up, as his eyes surveyed her face, surprise laced in his features. He was looking at her the same way he had right after the play finished, his gaze warm and tender. She had stared back too, wanting to say something to him, anything — but before long they had both been swept away in the rounds of congratulations and hugs and kisses from their family and friends.

"You showed up," Harry half announced, as he separated himself from his friends and started to make his way over to her, "It really is an honour to have the student body president attend one of my parties."

"Shove off, Harry." She tried to act offended, but the smile tugging at her cheeks wouldn't leave her.

"I'm not joking, this really is quite the surprise." He said, as he reached her, drink in hand, smirking slightly, "So, will the president be having a drink too, or?"

But suddenly, his look turned to one of concern and he seemed almost guilty.

"Wait, I mean, only if you're able to," The words came out rushed, as he gestured at her chest and Cassandra finally understood.

"Oh — yeah, it's okay, a few drinks won't hurt me," She said, forcing a small smile, "I hadn't even been thinking about it."

"I'm sorry — I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's fine, don't worry," She replied, sincerely, "I'm supposed to get more tests done in a few weeks, now that the play is over and done with."

"'S good that you can focus on more important things now," He said passing her a small cup of punch, and sipping slowly from his own beer.

"The play was a great distraction actually."

She smiled at him playfully, before adding "Even if my scene partner was a pain in the ass most of the time."

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding."

"No, you're not."

"You're right, I'm not." 

He laughed heartily at that, and she felt a certain warmth within her. She was getting rather accustomed to enjoying his company. She went to speak again but before she could, Clarke's voice could be heard loudly over the top of the music, calling Harry over. 

"I'll talk to you in a bit, yeah?" The dark haired boy said, with a smile as he returned to where the boys were gathered in the kitchen, and she nodded. 

A short while later, Cassandra found herself in the lounge room, talking with Gwen and Lexie, downing a few drinks as they spoke. Lexie was in the midst of passionate rant about veganism, when Cassandra noticed a figure come up behind her.   
  
"H-hey Cassandra," A timid voice squeaked, one which Cassandra immediately recognised to be Gordie's.

He was standing awkwardly next to the drinks table, apparently oblivious to the fact that Lexie and Gwen were next to her. He only seemed to be looking at her.  She turned around fully and smiled over at him.

"Gordie. Hi."

"I just wanted to say you were amazing tonight — like you were, just so good," He said, stumbling over the words, avoiding her eyes shyly.

"Thank you — you did great with the lighting too!" 

"No, but you, you were really wonderful."

He finally looking up at her, smiling nervously. She gripped her drink tighter as she spoke to him, guilt washing over her as his hopeful eyes gazed into hers. She liked him, of course she did. He had a friendly presence and a nice smile. But she couldn't help but feel he wanted more from her than she was willing to give. 

 

* * *

  
  
Harry pulled two more beers out of the ice bucket next to his feet, cursing when the ice water began to drip down his arms. Jason and the others had gone outside and he had been instructed to stock up on more drinks for them with Luke. But he had abandoned his mission for drinks momentarily when he had caught sight of her. She had just moved away from the drinks table with Helena — where she had been standing with Gordie for quite some time. He couldn't explain the knotted sensation he felt in his stomach watching her with him. The way she threw her head back laughing at some of the things he said. Gordie had never seemed like a particularly funny guy, Harry thought stubbornly, but in all fairness, he had barely spoken two words to him, so what would he know? 

When he looked up again, to his surprise he saw her heading straight towards him, or perhaps she was just following Helena as she made her way over to Luke, who was leaning against the kitchen counter opposite Harry. Helena smiled at him before ducking under Luke's arm and nestling her head on his shoulder. Cassandra was watching him, bringing her drink to lips. 

"So, how's Gordie?" Harry asked, in a slightly mocking voice, sidling over to her, his eyes remaining on the smaller dark haired boy a few metres away, who was now in the midst of an animated conversation with Bean.

The blonde turned to him, her eyebrows raised as she took another sip.

"If you're so interested, why don't you ask him yourself."

She was smiling at him, and he noticed his heart start to beat erratically. A completely unrelated happenstance obviously. 

"You guys...are you—"

"There is no me and Gordie." She said, firmly. 

"Really?" He muttered, running a hand through his hair, sheepishly, "That's not what it looks like."

He felt her stare on him as he said the words. There was a glint in her eye as she turned to face him properly, her blonde waves framing her petite features.

"You know, you sound kinda jealous." She stated, matter a factly, eying him closely.

He immediately scoffed and forced out a laugh. He wasn't jealous. She was barking. 

"I'm _not_ jealous."

"Sure."

She gave him a mischievous smile before walking over to the other side of the room where Grizz and Kelly were talking. His eyes followed her as she moved away, looking slightly dumbfounded. 

He didn't see her again for another hour or so, when he found her alone in the hallway, pulling her jacket over her shoulders. It was later now and the dancing had died down, but Jason was still blasting some RnB loud on the speakers for his entire street to hear. Harry stopped walking at the sight of her. 

"Wait, you're not leaving, are you?" He was frowning at her, but still with a slightly amused expression.

"Yeah, I am actually. I really should be getting back home. It's sort of late."

"That's bullshit, Cassandra. Allie hasn't even left yet," He questioned,  crossing his arms in front of his chest, "Come on, when was the last time you let your hair down and had some fun?"

"That's not the point—"

"It's not? Cassandra, you're a teenager. You're not gonna be in West Ham for much longer. Why don't you want to live a little?" He insisted.

"Well, I..."

"Not to mention, you're swaying on the spot," He said, a smile suddenly breaking out on his own face, "You're a bit tipsy, Pressman."

"No, I'm not — I refuse to be drunk."

"Well, I think you already are."

She put her arms out in front of her defensively, but Harry gently grabbed both of her hands, and pulled them back down by her sides, and she stared up at him. 

"Come on, I'm getting you some water." He announced, her hand still in his as he headed towards the kitchen.

"No, Harry, stop. This is stupid."

"No, you're _being_ stupid."

Cassandra rolled her eyes at that but nevertheless he noticed her fall in line behind him as he weaved his way seamlessly around the groups of drunk partygoers.  
  
The kitchen was empty when they got there. There was clutter on the benches, but everyone else seemed to have migrated into the living room or outside on the veranda. Cassandra leaned against the counter, as he passed her a glass and she began to absentmindedly swirl the contents around before looking over at him.

"It's too loud in here," She then suddenly complained.

And that's how they ended up on the second floor landing of his house. Away from the noise and chaos of downstairs. Cassandra was admiring the paintings on the wall, when he caught up to her. He smiled to himself as he watched her taking in every detail as she walked. A few doors down the hall, she stopped in front of him. 

"Oh, this room looks familiar," The blonde exclaimed, as she stood in the doorframe of what he quickly realised was his own bedroom. 

"Uh yeah," Harry said, shyly as he reluctantly opened the door fully for her.

After he switched the light on, she stepped in slowly after him. 

"Last time I was here was bad, wasn't it," She suddenly said, the light playfulness in her eyes disappearing at that and turning to a look of solemnity.

"What? No, uh, I was bad, you were fine."

"I was bad too." She said pouting guiltily, and he couldn't help but smile. 

"Okay, we both were."

She smiled at that, making it to the centre of the room and turning around.

"So, there's really nothing going on between you and Gordie?" Harry quipped again, before he could stop himself, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

The blonde's eyes met his, regarding him tentatively. Though while her eyes were wide with interest, he had never seen her so at ease. 

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Cassandra finally said, taking another long sip from her glass, "He's _sweet_ but there's no fire. You know? No heat, no...spark."

She snapped her fingers as if to further emphasise the point.

"No spark?" He asked her, steadying her slightly as she swayed back and forth.

"Yeah, you know, no passion?" She responded, as she flopped back onto the bed dramatically.

He almost laughed at her enthusiasm.

"I didn't realise you were such a romantic, Cassandra. I thought you were more the logical type." He smirked, sitting down next to her.

She rolled her eyes at that, her blonde fringe falling to one side, making her piercing blue eyes more visible.

"I'll have you know that I am logical about everything _but_ romance," The blonde said, lying back on his bed and closing her eyes momentarily.

"Ah, I see." He nodded, trying to hide the smile that kept trying to creep onto his face.

He followed suit and lay down next to her. She slowly turned to face him, her face resting on her elbow.

"That's why I can't wait for college."

"What do you mean?" Harry looked over at her, curiously.

"You know, to find someone."

"Oh."

Harry looked at her, a strange expression on his face.

"Come on," Cassandra half scoffed, drunkenly, "I know how the guys here see me....they think I'm too, I don't know, opinionated.....I'm just a bit too much."

"I don't think you're too much," Harry blurted out, before he could stop himself, "I don't think you're too much at all."

Cassandra stared at him, her eyes intense and yet moist with emotion. She then awkwardly cleared her throat, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"You know, Gone with the Wind is my favourite book, Harry and that's a romance." She said, pointedly as she sat up on the bed, "I bet _you've_ never read it."

She shook her finger at him jokingly, letting out a breathy laugh.  Harry watched her, as she ran a hand through her wavy locks of blonde hair. He had never seen her this way before. Her face flushed and her hair, a tousled mess, and yet somehow this was the most beautiful she'd ever looked.

Harry gave her a knowing look before moving over to a cupboard on the other side of the room, and rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out none other than his own tattered copy of Gone with the Wind.

"No way." Cassandra said, in disbelief as a smirking Harry returned to her side, holding out the book to her.

"Didn't like it much though."

She gasped at him, feigning betrayal, before slapping him on the arm, looking incredulous.

"How dare you, Harry Bingham. It's a masterpiece." She gushed, looking both annoyed but amused at the same time, flicking through the pages, excitedly, "How is it even possible to dislike that book?"

"I don't know, I just didn't like the ending I guess. Plus the racism."

"The ending is what makes it so good! All this time, you're waiting for Rhett and Scarlett to be together and then they're just....not," She exclaimed, "I'd never had a book that denied me like that."

"But, it's kind of depressing, Cassandra."

"I think their romance was beautiful." She said, stubbornly.

"You want a romance that ends that badly?"

"No, but what they shared...their time together, the love they had for each other was so... _strong_. That made the pain worth it, don't you think?" She asked, softly, her eyes locked on his.

"Maybe." He said, suddenly very aware of their proximity to each other, "You didn't want them to  end up together?"

"Yeah, I mean, of course  I did," She said, her words coming out slower this time, "But it never would have worked out between them."

"You don't know that."

Somehow it felt like they weren't talking about Rhett and Scarlett anymore. Harry glanced over at her, and let out the breathe he didn't know he was holding in. Their knees were touching and he could feel the soft material of her skirt brush against his leg. Her touch caused shivers to erupt all over his body and she was so close to him now that he could smell that flowery perfume she always wore. He remembered it from when they were rehearsing for the play and he hated how much the very scent made his head go whoozy. She clearly had no idea of the effect she had on him. She turned to look at him, slowly.

"Have you ever felt that for anyone?" He asked her, curiously, his face only inches from her.

She was staring at him, almost as if she were assessing him, her eyes darting over his face, absorbing in every detail.

"No, I don't think so," The words came out quiet and almost hesitant, "You?"

Harry's eyes automatically flitted to her lips and he prayed that she didn't notice but from the glint in her eyes, he could tell that she did. Her gaze dropped to his lips too. He could feel his heart rate start to speed up again.

"Neither." He breathed, as he felt himself leaning towards her, through no volition of his own.

His lips hovered over hers for a second, and he sucked in a shaky breathe. Was he nervous? He pushed the thought away, as he leaned in a little closer, their foreheads touching. He couldn't fight against the feelings that were rushing through him. Her very smell was flooding his senses again. She tilted her head upwards towards him in anticipation but just as his lips grazed over the corner of her mouth, the bedroom door banged open. Immediately, they sprang apart. In the doorway, stood a drunk Gwen and an even more drunk, Clarke, their loud raucous giggles stopping at the sight of the two renowned high school rivals sitting awkwardly side by side on Harry's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long the update!!! i had part of this chapter sitting in drafts for ages but i had to fill in the rest of it and forgot about it aha!! anyway, thank you so much to anyone who is still reading this! 
> 
> any comments/feedback would be greatly appreciated! love you all <3


	13. thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! i'm so sorry for the slow updates. i haven't had much motivation lately. also, i literally hate this chapter so much. i really hope it's okay, it's far from my best... anyways, thanks to anyone who is still reading this mess, i appreciate it <3

Harry let out a sigh, as he pulled his hoodie over his head. It was colder this morning than he had anticipated and there was nothing Harry hated more than cold weather. He stood by the lockers, back pressed against the wall, wishing this stupid school could get a better central heating system. He was staring down at his phone when he noticed Clarke and Jason quickly approaching him, roughing each other up as they went. 

"Party was sick on Saturday, dude!" Clarke yelled, punching him lightly on the arm and laughing. 

Harry smiled at them, trying not think about the shit his mother had given him when she had gotten home the next day and seen all the mess from their shenanigans the night before. To say she was furious, was a grand understatement. Not that it really surprised him. His mother was always angry at him about something these days. He still remembered her terse words of congratulations when she greeted him after the play. He thought she would've been pleased. Even he had thought for the first time in a long time, that he had done something good. That he had made something worthwhile. Something to be proud of. But she didn't seem to think so. 

"Had the worst hangover of my life the next day though, fuck," Jason continued, smiling tiredly at the two of them. 

"Didn't we all," Harry lied, when he knew for a fact, he had gone to bed practically sober. Maybe Pressman's goodness was rubbing off on him. 

"So, what the hell happened the other night man?" Clarke said, a smug smile on his face, amusement in his eyes.

Harry avoided his gaze, leaning back slightly, images appearing in his mind of Clarke and Gwen bursting into his room a few nights earlier —  when he had been moments away from tasting his supposed arch-nemesis. He still remembered the the look on her face after he had pulled away. It was one of alarm and confusion and maybe regret too — he couldn't quite tell — he had only chanced a glance her way before they both stood up and left the room, parting ways before Clarke could say a word. Then, they lost each other in the crowd of people who had somehow found their way up to the second level of his house, and he hadn't seen her since. Nor had he allowed himself to even think of her.

Every time, the blonde had managed to dance her way into his thoughts over the remainder of the weekend, he had simply ignored the knotted feeling in his stomach and tried to turn his mind to other things. It was a bad strategy, but one which he was all too familiar with. Whenever unwanted feelings presented themselves, ones that were too conflicting, he would try to bury them — to push them down until they went away. It's what he always did. When he was angry at his mother, when he was sad about his father. And now, whenever his rival (whose lips he seemed to be dreaming of) slipped into his head. 

He cocked his head to the side, trying to ignore the way his heart thumped rapidly in his chest at just the thought of her. Maybe by some miracle, Clarke would have forgotten about what happened. Or perhaps, he had been too drunk to fully comprehend it. But the mischievous look in Clarke's eyes told him that he was definitely in the know. And he wasn't going to leave out any details.

"What do you mean?" He said, attempting nonchalance. 

Clarke's grin widened and he looked back and forth between Jason and Harry.

"I caught this guy — alone in his room — with the student body president!"

"Wait, for real?" Jason's mouth fell open in shock, before he burst out laughing, "Cassandra? I didn't know you were into her like that?"

"I'm not okay—"

"I cannot believe you fucked Cassandra, that's hilarious," Jason said, putting his hand over his mouth in disbelief. 

"We didn't fuck okay — we didn't do anything," Harry replied, impatiently.

"Was it a dare? Who dared you?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but Clarke was already speaking. 

"Have you been pretending to hate her but secretly wanting to fuck her this whole time?"

"I gotta say, I'm surprised man — she's a piece of work."

"Hey, you don't know her," He said, instinctively before he could stop himself. 

"Oh — and you do?" Clarke looked amused, eyebrows raised.

"What? N-no I'm just saying—" He was floundering now.

"Man, she got you under her spell,"

"Shut the fuck up, Jason. I don't like Cassandra!" He almost yelled, his voice deep and stern,"I _never_ have."

Jason and Clarke shared a look before Clarke spoke again.

"Right, so the play—"

"—was a _stupid_ play. That's all. Now, will you let it go?" He snapped back, frustratedly, "I'll see you in class."

He caught Grizz' eye a few metres away pushing his locker shut, and sped up a little to catch up with him. 

 

* * *

  


 

He saw her for the first time that afternoon, in the library near the printers. Her lips were pursed, a look of focus etched on her face as her eyes flitted between the printer and her laptop. He approached her slowly, taking her in as he went, soft waves of blonde hair framing her pale face. Her fringe was falling into her eyes, and she kept brushing it aside impatiently as she typed. She looked tired, dark circles round her eyes, but she was beautiful as ever. He was practically by her side before she even glanced in his general direction. He cleared his throat, his palms sweaty. 

"Hey."

It came out a bit awkward, and he cocked his head to the side to look at her. He was standing close enough to smell her perfume and it took him straight back to that night in his room. His breathe hitched in his throat. 

"Hi."

She didn't look up. 

"How are you?" He said after a moment, trying to gauge what she was feeling.

"Fine," She said, bluntly.

Harry's brow crinkled, slightly as she typed something quickly into her computer. 

"Okay."

Her gaze still hadn't moved from her laptop. He shifted on the spot, confused.

"You don't, uh, seem fine--"

"Just stop, Harry."

He sent her a questioning look, at the sharpness in her tone. She was looking at him now, but her expression was blank, as if she were trying really hard to not reveal what she was actually feeling. 

"You don't have to pretend, okay?"

He raised his eyebrows at that, "What? Pretend? What are you talking about—"

"The play's over now, we don't have to spend time together anymore," Her tone was sharp, but her bright blue eyes were full of emotion.

"Wait, I don't understand..." He said, quietly, as she shuffled through her papers and started to move away. 

He went to gently grab her arm, but she shook him off immediately, hugging her laptop and papers close to her chest. 

"What happened? What's goin—"

"And if this is about the other night. I feel the same way. It was stupid and we were both drunk, and — for god sakes, nothing even happened!" She said, letting out a breathy laugh, her voice rising ever so slightly.

He stared at her, a lump forming in his throat. "Cassandra, where is all of this coming fro—"

"I heard you Harry, with your friends," She said, stiffly, her eyes narrowed.

Harry felt his insides churn at her words. He said a lot of things he didn't mean, when it came to Cassandra. He always had. They both did. It was like their pact. But, maybe the rules between them had blurred somewhat. Maybe, she cared about him more than he realised.

"It's fine. Let's just forget about it. I mean it's pretty obvious you want to, so."

She gave him one last cold stare as she stepped past him and headed towards the door. 

"Cassandra—"

"Just leave me alone, Harry." 

And then, she was gone. 

 

* * *

  


That became the new normal for them. She didn't even look at him now. In fact, they were both pretty much steadfastly ignoring each other. Five days had past since they had spoken in the library at school, since he had majorly fucked up and since she had resolutely decided that he was not worthy of her time. She was probably right (as always), which he hated to admit. Perhaps, he just believed that they would always be adversaries and nothing would change that, while she was ready to lay her armour down and end this frivolous war between them. She never asked for it after all. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure where all of their hatred stemmed anyway. All he knew was that it was getting hard to ignore the sharp pang he felt in his gut every time she walked away. 

It had never been like this between them. When they were angry, which they often were, they took it out on each other. They spat insults at each other, said things they didn't mean. It was a strange understanding they had had for as long as he could remember. They were threaded together by their hatred, their anger — the emotions dancing between them always strong and ignited and _alive_. Yet, now she couldn't even look at him, and granted he found it hard to look at her too. Every time he did, he was reminded of the pained expression in her eyes from a few days earlier, and of the soft touch of her lips against his mouth that night in his room. Both moments constantly replaying in his mind like a broken record.  

His eyes fluttered open and he looked around, forcing himself out of his thoughts. He had dozed off in history again. Not my fault, he thought stubbornly. Who the hell puts a class as boring as this the last hour on a Friday? Nevertheless, he looked up at the board at the front of the room, and wrote down a few notes, struggling to absorb anything. He could see her sitting a few rows in front of him, her small frame hunched over her desk as she scribbled something down, no doubt meticulously. He hated himself for finding it endearing. When the bell rang and they all began filing out, he saw her say something to Helena before moving over to their teacher to discuss something. He gathered up his things slowly, throwing a few glances her way before he trudged behind the rest of the class in the direction of the exit.

Yet, just as he approached, the blonde turned towards the door, almost running into him. She let out a gasp at their closeness before her eyes met his and her expression changed from one of shock to one of complete indifference. Before he could say a word however, she gathered her bearings and stepped in front of him and out of the room. There was that pang again, in his chest, as she disappeared down the hall without looking back. 

"What the hell is going on between you two?" Said a voice from behind him.

He knew it was Grizz before he even turned around and his heart sank. The last thing he wanted right now was to have a heart to heart about Cassandra. He kept walking briskly forward. 

"What? Nothing," He said, quickly as he continued down the hall. 

"Think I'm blind, Harry?" Grizz said, pointedly, as he fell in step behind him, "What happened?"

Harry stayed silent, as he turned the corner near them and kept walking but Grizz caught up to him in two quick strides.

"One week you're at each others throats, the next you're being nice and now you guys can't even look at each other?" 

"Why do you always feel the need to insert yourself in this stuff, Grizz?" Harry snapped, still avoiding his gaze, as they exited the back of the humanities building.

Grizz' face fell slightly at that, but nevertheless he was still determined.

"Look, I'm friends with both of you. And you're both driving me fucking crazy."

Harry merely sighed as he kept walking. 

"Harry...come on."

He eventually slowed to a stop apprehensively, before finally gesturing to a nearby bench at the back gates of the school. He settled on one end, his face in his hands. Grizz plonked himself down next to him, eyes wide in annoyance.

"So what did you do?" He asked, bluntly.

"Hey — why do you always assume I did something?"

"Because usually it's you who does?"

"Fuck you," Harry muttered, bitterly.

"It's true," Grizz said, shrugging his shoulders, "What did you do?"

"Nothing...I..."

"You're a shit liar, Harry."

Harry looked up to see Grizz eyeing him closely. He had grown up with him, and was well aware that the boy knew him better than most. He could see right through all his bullshit. Kind of like someone else he knew. He stared at him for a moment, before realising Grizz wasn't going to give it up. He sighed, almost amused at the whole situation before he relented to recounting the events of the past week. When he finished, Grizz was staring at him, his expression unreadable.

"Look, I'm not sure how this got so stupid," Harry started to say, rambling defensively.

Grizz sat very still, looking pensive. He ran a hand through his hair before looking over at him.

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's easier for you to just say shit like that?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean, it's easier for you to hate her with everything you've got rather than admit the truth."

"Yeah, and what's that?"Harry scoffed, looking amused but he could hear his own heart beating loudly in his chest.

"That maybe what you feel is...the opposite."

"Grizz, that's—"

"Come on, Harry."

His felt himself crumple under Grizz' stare. Harry hated that how well he could read people.

"I don't know, I just....with Cassandra, it's different, it's confusing," He finally said, picking at a loose thread on his jeans, the words coming out barely above a whisper.

"Of course it is," Grizz said, more softly this time, but with the wisdom of a person twice their age, "Because it's you two. You've been in love with her since elementary school."

Harry's head shot up at that.

"What — no? I have not?" He spluttered but Grizz' smile only widened.

"Dude, please."

Harry opened his mouth to reply but found he had nothing to retort. As much as he would like to deny it, what Grizz had said wasn't a complete lie. While his relationship with the blonde was complicated now, it hadn't always been that way. When they were younger, one might've even called them friends. Back when he had nothing but love for her — before high school came along and competition tore them apart.

"It was always gonna happen between you two," Grizz continued, shaking his head knowingly and pulling Harry out of his reverie, "I'm surprised it took you this long to figure it out."

Harry looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, "It's far from figured out. She won't even speak to me."

"You can change that?"

"How? She literally hates me." The words left him slowly, and he felt a tightness in his throat. 

The thought of Cassandra hating him put his stomach in knots all over again.

Grizz shook his head, smiling sadly. 

 "You know she doesn't. She never has."


End file.
